


In His Arms

by horrorgirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Denial of Feelings, First Time, Fluff, Heartbreak, Loss, M/M, Memories, Re-Appearance, Smut, changed personality, vengeance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:34:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9207224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorgirl/pseuds/horrorgirl
Summary: Dean was happier than he could ever remember being. He was in love and Cas was his world. Until one night when that world came shattering down around him. He woke up and Cas was gone. He'd made deals with demons to bring somebody back. Now he's faced with making a deal with an angel. He has choices to make, and even the smallest one will alter the course of destiny. He'd promised Cas that he'd do anything for him, but can he?





	

He was still breathing heavily when he propped himself up on his elbows, sweat running slowly along his hairline. He smiled when he saw the heavy lidded blue eyes open. They were a shade of blue that knew everything about him, a shade that he’d stopped trying to describe a long time ago. He dipped his head to press a gentle kiss on swollen lips before he rolled onto his back, reaching down to intertwine his fingers with the hand that had reached for his. He lifted it slowly and softly kissed each knuckle before holding it against his full lips. 

“Dean?”

“Mmmm baby?” he mumbled absentmindedly.

“Ready to shower?”

“Give me a minute,” he closed his eyes and let himself become heady with the smell of musky skin and sex. His mind replayed every quiet moan, every soft whisper, every promise they had made. 

“Okay, shower time,” he finally grinned and turned his head, again meeting those blue eyes, crinkled at the corners as the slow smile widened. He reluctantly let his hand slide out of the grasp before he stood and reached again for his lover, leading him into the cramped motel bathroom.

\-------------------------

He ran his soapy hands over the taut body, still surprised at the subtle muscle tones. Sexually he had always been open, but he had never felt the things that he felt when they were together. He’d never had somebody who truly cared about him touch him. His arms snaked around, pulling the warm back against his chest so that he could run his lips across the sensitive skin that covered the defined shoulders and soft neck. It wasn’t the first time he asked himself why or how somebody found him deserving, but he wasn’t going to argue it.

\-------------------------

“Cas?”

“Hhhmmm?” 

He smiled at the drowsy reply. Cas didn’t need sleep, but he was satisfied and relaxed. “I hope you know that I meant everything that I said tonight. Maybe I don’t say it enough, but I’d do it all over again to be here, right now, in this bed with you in my arms. I wouldn’t change anything that brought us here. This, it means everything to me.” He pressed his full lips against the back of his angel’s neck and smiled at the visible shiver. “You are my everything.”

“I know, Dean. I would do anything for you.”

“I know you would, baby.” Dean waited for Cas to turn his head in the dark for one last kiss. He pulled Cas’s body closer to his and buried his face in his neck before he started to softly snore.

\-------------------------

Cas loved these moments in the dark. He could hear Dean’s soft snore, feel the breath on the back of his neck, and let his mind take him back. Sometimes he relived the day that he received his orders. Yes, he was truly an angel and beholden to the greater good of Heaven. His orders were nothing but a simple explanation that would forever change his existence. Retrieve a human soul from Hell. He remembered the unexpected rush of emotion he felt when he realized how shattered it was. He remembered cradling it in his arms, hesitant to reunite it with it’s human vessel. He remembered the first time his eyes locked on the intense green ones that held so much confusion and pain. He didn’t realize that that there was no going back for him. He remembered the night, years later, under the streetlamp. The night that he told Dean he was leaving. It wasn’t the first time, but he’d truly convinced himself that he was doing the right thing. He’d become too close to humanity, too close to the Winchesters, too close to Dean Winchester. He’d told Dean that he was leaving before, he’d said it so many times over the years, but this time he meant it. The only way for him to be accepted back into the fold was to give Dean up. As much as it hurt, he needed to do it. He wasn’t supposed to be able to feel emotional pain and there was no way to make his family understand how difficult it would be to look into those green eyes and say goodbye for the last time. The sob seemed to encase his entire body when he finally found the courage to say the words.

“Again Cas? So what? I wait for you to come back after you see that those assholes are just playing the same fucking game that they’ve been playing for years?”

“It’s chaos up there, Dean. I have the opportunity to clear my name....”

“As long as you aren’t caught with the stench of scumbag hunters on you. I’m guessing a clean break? This is it, you’re done?”

“Dean, I have no choice.”

“Bullshit, Cas! You’ve shown more free will than any angel. But you know what? Fuck it, I’m done. This is a fight I can’t win.”

“It’s not a fight…”

“Yes it is. Open your eyes, it’s always been a fucking fight, Cas. You had orders, you raised my soul from Hell, with an agenda. I don’t know how we got from point A to point B, but you helped a human and went against everything that they expected of you. You did it for me, I don’t know why, but you did. It’s been me vs. them since day one. I’m done. You’re an angel. That’s where you belong. You’re infinite, I’m going to die young and bloody. Hell, I already have.” 

Cas’s shoulders slumped in the low light. He couldn’t lift his head to look at Dean standing just outside, cloaked by the shadows. He was defeated, his posture told Dean everything that he needed to know. “This isn’t what about what I want, Dean. It’s about doing what’s right.”

“I get that, Cas,” Dean called softly. “If anyone gets that, it’s me. All I’ve ever tried to do is the right thing, I know how it feels to fuck it up. I’m not going to fight, not anymore. I’m going to try to talk you out of it this time. We both know where you belong.”

“I’m sorry,” he said thickly.

“Don’t be sorry, Cas. Just let me ask one last thing of you. Maybe I don’t deserve it, you’ve always done everything that I ask. I just want this one last thing.”

“What is that?” Cas was shaking with emotions that he didn’t understand, emotions that he wasn’t supposed to be capable of.

“Not here, not like this. I just want time, Cas. Spend the night with me, no games. I’m not propositioning you. Sit in a chair ten feet away from me, I don’t care. I can’t say goodbye in the middle of fucking nowhere, not after everything that we’ve been through. You don’t owe me a damn thing, not after the things that you’ve done to save my ass. I have absolutely no right to ask anything of you, I know that. Just give me some time, that’s all. Let me remember the last time saw you as somewhere other than here. Please, Cas…”

“Sunrise…”

“I’ll take sunrise. Anything other than right now and right here. If I have to lose you, if I have to let go, I want to do it on my terms. I’m a selfish fucking bastard, we both know that. Will you get into the car? I’ll get another room. Like I said, I don’t expect anything. I know that it’s never been about that. But, if I’m going to lose the best friend that I’ve ever had, I need more than an argument in the middle of the fucking street.”

“Okay,” Cas silently slid into the passenger of Dean’s ‘67 Chevy Impala, his baby. The drive back to the motel was silent, uncomfortably so. Instead of pulling up in front of the room that he was supposed to be sharing with his brother, Dean pulled up to the front office and paid for another. He parked just feet from the door and unlocked it, holding it wide so that Cas could walk in ahead of him. Cas waited for Dean to pull the chain on the dim lamp before he sat in a chair and watched him pace, rubbing his forehead. It was a mannerism that he’d unknowingly picked up from his father. He watched Dean finally sit on the edge of the bed looking more lost than he ever had. Why he stood and went to Dean, he still didn’t know. He shrugged off his trenchcoat and suit jacket before he made it to the bed. His hand gently pulled Dean’s head against his stomach as he stood between his knees. He sensed the subtle movements of his tie with Dean’s every breath. He reached up to loosen the knot and was rooted in place when he felt the strong hands wrap around his hips. Dean’s thumbs running along his waistband, slowly untucking his shirt while his fingers splayed across his ass made Cas’s breath catch. Warm calloused skin touching his, hands sliding up his sides and across his stomach, fumbling with cheap buttons. Cas had never felt a need like this as he started working the buttons from the top, their hands meeting when Dean spread his shirt open and pressed his lips to the soft skin of Cas’s stomach. Cas knew at that moment that he wasn’t going back, this was his home. He arched his body against Dean’s mouth as it moved across the subtle ridges of muscle, the work calloused hands reaching to push his shirt off his shoulders before sliding down his back to pull his body closer. “I need you, Cas,” Dean whispered. “I’m not trying to talk you out of anything, I just need to know that I said it before you left.” His full lips slid across Cas’s body before he leaned back, letting Cas decide if he wanted to share the bed or move back to the chair. It wasn’t a choice, Cas let Dean wrap his arms around him, rolling him onto his back. Dean settled between his legs before sliding his hands up the sides of the Cas’s face. “This isn’t why I brought you here,” he whispered, holding Cas to the bed with his full lips, encouraging him to part his lips, sliding their tongues together slowly. They worked to pull Dean’s thin t-shirt over his head, their chests building a fine sheen of sweat. They slowly stripped, letting their clothes drop in a pile on the floor. It was with tumultuous confusion Cas spread his legs. He gasped when he felt the friction against his hard cock that had been trapped between their sweat slicked bodies. The slow rocking of hips, the velvet skin, Dean’s cock throbbing against his, it took to him to a place that he didn’t know existed. At that moment, he belonged to Dean Winchester. His body arched, his hips tilted, he kissed deeply. Dean’s soft moans and quiet whimpers matched his own as they moved together in an easy rhythm. Cas felt his body tense as he slid his thighs against Dean’s hips, the muscles tightening. “Let it happen,” Dean whispered hotly in his ear, nipping at his earlobe, running his full lips across his jaw and down his neck, kissing and sucking, pulling blood to the surface. Cas could feel Dean’s body touch every inch of his own as he throbbed painfully and rocked his hips. He felt a rush of intense relief and called out Dean’s name, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, tilting his head back. Dean reached for his hands, holding them above his head and sliding his mouth across his throat as he pressed against Cas’s body, emitting a loud groan when the thick warmth spread between them. His grip loosened on Cas’s hands. He visibly shivered at the fingers that gently trailed down his spine when he let his sweaty body collapse against Cas and buried his face in his neck, still kissing and sucking. That was the moment when the both knew that this was there they were meant to be. 

“I can’t say goodbye, Dean,” Cas whispered.

“Cas, I didn’t mean to…”

“I know. I didn’t have to come to you, but I did. I can’t go back, I don’t belong up there.”

“I need you, Cas. I always have, I always will. I want to ask you to stay, but this is a choice that you need to make.”

“I can’t leave,” Cas cried softly. “I feel things that I’m not supposed to feel. I should love humanity as a whole, not a single human. I should exist for the greater good, and not the good of a single human.”

“Cas…”

“No Dean, it’s not your fault. There was no way to know, but I can’t go up there and pretend to be something that I’m not. I can’t be Castiel the warrior. That’s not who I am. I’m Cas.”

“No more arguments under streetlamps,” Dean said quietly. “If you stay, if that’s really what you want, I’m not going anywhere. We crossed a line, Cas. I don’t know if I can back track…”

“I don’t want to,” Cas whispered, wrapping his arms tightly around Dean, pulling their bodies closer. “All I want is to eventually shower off this mess all over my stomach and crawl back into this bed.”

Dean rolled off of him and silently led him to the shower, just as he would many nights after that.

\-------------------------

Dean shifted in his sleep, Cas reached up and wrapped his fingers around Dean’s arms, pulling them closer to his body. He knew that if he let go, Dean would reach for him as a child would for a favorite blanket or stuffed toy. Dean had spent almost an entire lifetime sharing cheap motel rooms with his brother while they criss crossed the country, always sleeping fully clothed and ready to fight. Now he slept soundly, his body curled around Cas’s warm skin in the room that they shared at the opposite end of the motel from Sam.

\------------------------- 

Everything went black, interrupting Cas’s reverie. He felt, more than heard, a ringing sound. The pitch turning higher until the pressure held his head in a vice grip of pain. His body was stilled, as if he were being crushed. Other than digging his fingers into Dean’s arms and gasping, he couldn’t move or make a sound to wake him. He couldn’t tell if the spinning was inside of him, or the room surrounding him, he just squeezed Dean’s arms. He was trying to rake his short nails across the skin, somehow disturb Dean’s sleep, when everything stopped. The pain was gone, as was the crushing force against his body, but he could no longer feel Dean.

\-------------------------

“Cas!” Dean yelled. He tried turning Cas’s body towards him, but Cas had an iron grip on his arms. He tried pulling him close to hold and calm his shaking body. The soft mewling, sounds of pain felt like a physical punch in his chest. “Baby, please…” he cried in Cas’s ear. “It’s going to be…” his arms were empty. Everything was still, too still. In a panic he reached for the lamp and pulled the chain. There was still an impression in Cas’s pillow, the sheets were twisted, but he was alone in the room. 

\-------------------------

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes darting. Cas’s clothes were still folded carefully over the back of the chair where he had left them. In a blind panic he reached for his boxers and jeans from the pile on the floor, pulling them on before crossing the room to find that the door was still locked from the inside. He fumbled with the lock, finally pulling the door open and taking a step outside. He glanced up and down the sidewalk before gazing out across the parking lot. He felt the presence behind him and dropped his head before he turned around.

\-------------------------

“Okay you bald piece of shit,” Dean growled, picking his shirt up off of the floor and pulling it over his head. “Where’s Cas?”

“Dean, there is no need for name calling. I actually find this vessel quite distinguished looking. To answer your question, your angel is somewhere safe.”

“Safe? What in the fuck did you do to him?”

“I can assure you that Castiel is fine.”

“Really? Because these bruises on my arms tell a different fucking story. What did you do to him?” Dean took a step towards Zachariah and watched two angels silently step out from behind him. “Ah, had to bring your lackeys. Worried that Dean Winchester might tear you limb from limb?”

“Do you understand how inconvenient it would be to find a new vessel? I have become quite fond of this one.”

“Okay, enough with your bullshit, Zachariah! I’m going to ask you again, where is Cas? What in the fuck did you do to him?”

“I needed to get your attention, Dean.”

“What? Is this because my brother and I refused to play a part in your little prophecy?”

“Little prophecy? It was the apocalypse, Dean,” Zachariah started pacing, Dean’s eyes never leaving his face. “I’ll admit that there was some embarrassment on my part when the plan failed. Even more embarrassing was when Dean Winchester was able to lure one of my own into his bed.”

“Fucking pervert,” Dean muttered, stepping forward. The two nameless angels stepped out of the shadows and each held him by a shoulder, pushing him down into a chair.

“Such sweet words you whisper to Castiel. Tonight really was a beautiful performance. Not quite as poetic as the night that you manipulated him into turning his back on his family. The nuances of the clueless, angry, but emotionally fragile hunter were truly a work of art,” Zachariah chuckled, turning to face Dean. “I really wasn’t altogether surprised when Castiel fell for it. He’s always been a bit weak, and obviously should never have received the orders to raise your soul. I must say, this power that you have over him is astounding. Granted, you are a beautiful specimen, but you are extremely difficult.”

“You haven’t seen difficult,” Dean said with his jaw clenched.

“Oh no, I have. I know almost everything about you, Dean. You have two weaknesses. Now we both know that I can’t touch Sam. Unfortunately it’s in my best interest to keep you alive as well. So, I took what matters most to you. That sweet angel. You know that he loves you, right? You’ve never actually said the words, but I think that we both know how you feel.”

“So you showed up here to rip him out of my arms and then have a friendly talk about my feelings? What in the hell do you want?”

“Hell, that brings up an interesting point. Most people say that they would go to Hell and back for the one that they love, but how many would actually go through with it? I hear the things that you whisper in his ear in the dark. Just a couple of hours ago you told him that you’d do it all over again to end up...here,” Zachariah looked around the cheap room, his face full of revulsion. “You told Castiel that you wouldn’t change a thing.”

“You really are a sick fuck.”

“Oh, I didn’t watch anything. Carnal desires don’t interest me, empty promises do.”

“Empty? You’re kidding, right? You did this, Zachariah. You put him right in my path and you pushed him into my arms. The fights, the arguments, the bullshit, it was all worth it and it must embarrass the hell out of you that he chose to stay with me.”

“You are very convincing, Dean. Your physical beauty, apparent sexual prowess, the unexpected sensitivity that you save for him. The lies that you tell him.”

“I have never lied to Cas! I would go through it all again!”

“Ah, there’s the self sacrificing Dean Winchester that we all know and loathe. I’ve been waiting for this. Now, it’s one thing to lay in a dark room and whisper sweet nothings, but what if you had to prove it?”

“Prove it?”

“Yes Dean, prove it. Your brother was killed, you ultimately traded your soul for his life, went to Hell after one year…”

“Yeah, I know the story asshole. I lived it. What are you getting at?”

“Like I said before, you have two weaknesses. Your brother and your angel. Now, in order for Castiel to become a part of your life, Sam had to die and you had to go to Hell. That had to be a stressful time. Do you really believe that if you were placed back into that situation you would make the same decisions? Especially if you were fully aware of the possible outcomes? Could you feel your brother die in your arms? Subsequently spend the equivalent of 40 years in Hell, just to have a warm body to curl up next to yours every night?”

“What are you getting at?” Dean asked evenly.

“I’m going to give you the opportunity to prove it.”

“What?” Dean started to rise out of his chair, but was quickly halted by the angels standing on either side of him. He shrugged their hands off of his shoulders and reached for the bottle of scotch, not bothering to grab a cup.

“It will be like a choose your own adventure. I’m going to send you back to that night, the night that your brother was murdered in cold blood. But, and this is the fun part, you are going to retain the memories of everything that has happened to you since. His death, your deal with the crossroads demon, the hell hounds, the things that you experienced downstairs, and all of the things that have happened since your return.”

“Wait, you want to send me, me as I am right now, back to that night?”

“I don’t want to, I’m going to.”

“You seriously have nothing better to do than fuck with my life?”

“Well, considering that the apocalypse never came to pass, no, I really don’t have anything better to do. You don’t like me, I don’t like you and I would love to see how this plays out. Which of your weaknesses means more to you? Your brother? Or your angel? If Sam dies, you know that you can bring him back. Castiel will eventually show up. Are you strong enough to keep your promises to him?”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Dean chuckled.

“I’ve never been more serious. Now, I have some preparations to make. I should be back around dawn and we’ll get this party started. Don’t worry, I will give you plenty of time to get to your brother. What happens after that is strictly up to you.”

“You are seriously…”

“Sick? Yes, you’ve said that before. Anyway, these two will be staying with you, not that I consider you a flight risk. I mean, where are you going to go? You have a few hours to prepare. I suggest remembering as many details as you can, or finishing off that bottle in front of you. I know you, Dean. Enjoy the bottle.”

Zachariah disappeared and left Dean alone with an angel on either side of him. “I get it, that asshole is your boss, but like he said, I’m not going anywhere. Could you at least do your creepy invisibility shit and back the fuck off?” They faded into the shadows and he pulled the bottle to his lips, taking a long swallow. He was hoping that this was a nightmare.

\-------------------------

With a pen in one hand and the bottle in the other, Dean started to write. He knew that he needed to remember, but he didn’t know how far back he needed to go. This went beyond the night that Sam was killed. It started when Sam was a baby. It started the night that their mother was killed by a demon. Dean vaguely remembered holding his six month old brother while he watched their house burn to the ground, their mother inside. At four years old he didn’t understand that as of that moment, his life was no longer his own. It belonged to his father, his desperate need for vengeance. It was as if John Winchester had to be reminded that he even had children as he dragged them through the dark underbelly of a world where monsters exist. That night may have changed the course of his life, but it changed Sam in a more profound way. Sam lost part of his humanity, and Dean only knew because it was the last thing that their father said to him before he died. There was something living inside of Sam. Dean needed to protect him from himself. 

He wrote, he drank, he stood up and walked around rubbing his forehead. He studied the dark purple bruises on his arms, reminders that he may never feel Cas’s hands again. He couldn’t sleep, not in the bed that they had shared. He paced and he sat. He waited. That’s all he could do, wait.

\-------------------------

“Are you ready?”

“Does it really fucking matter?” Dean glared at Zachariah before shutting his eyes when he felt the pressure of two fingers against his forehead. Everything went blurry, he was dizzy, his legs were ready to give out.

\-------------------------

He gripped the cold metal of the Impala and held himself upright. His eyes were still closed, his nose filled with the scent of burning wood. 

“Goddamnit!”

He lifted his head and looked at his uncle, Bobby Singer standing on the other side of the car. He wanted to go to him, pull him into a bear hug, tell him how much he missed him. He wanted to let him know how much he appreciated everything that he’d done. He wanted to say all of the things that he should have said when Bobby was alive, but he couldn’t. He stared at the bear of a man, his grizzled countenance staring away from Dean, and that’s when Dean realized where they were. Harvelle’s Roadhouse, it had just burnt to the ground. Dean started to once again grieve those that they had lost in the fire. He tilted his head back to stop the tears from welling and swallowed the lump in his throat. Bobby didn’t know who had survived and who hadn’t. Bobby didn’t know who they had lost. So many friends, so many loved ones had been in that building. 

The pain in his head was crippling when he bent over the hood of the car, his hands pressed against his temples.

“Dean? You okay son?”

“It’s a bell, Bobby. It has a design, like a tree,” Dean didn’t need to picture the bell, he already knew. Sam had gone missing and this headache, this vision was the only way that they were going to find him. He was crawling out of his skin, just waiting for Bobby to figure it out. He knew where Sam was, he knew how to get there, but Bobby needed to figure it out. He didn’t hear the words, just the low hum of his uncle’s voice when he slid into the driver’s seat of his car and spun out onto the highway. How fast had he driven last time? 60? 70? He needed to drive faster, he needed to get there sooner. They were losing light when he stopped quickly at the end of a dirt road and jumped out, running blindly yet knowing where he needed to be. He saw the silhouette of Sam’s body, he saw the shadow move up behind him as he yelled. How fast had he run last time? He needed to run faster, he needed to yell louder. “Sam! Sammy!” Time almost stood still when his brother slowly turned, the moon hitting the sharp metal at just the right angle for Dean to see it. He slid in the dirt on his knees and caught Sam’s body when he collapsed, vaguely aware of Bobby running past him in pursuit of Sam’s attacker. He didn’t know, he couldn’t have known that the pain would be sharper when he held his baby brother in his arms, trying to convince them both that it was going to be okay. He pressed his hands to the back of Sam’s coat to stem the flow of blood, but all he felt was the thick canvas of his jacket. He slid his hand around his side and felt where Sam had been stabbed. He held his hands against his brother’s body, screaming for Bobby. Sam was alive, he was semi conscious but he was alive. His heart was still beating. Bobby knelt down and peeled back the layers of clothing.

“It looks like his jacket may have taken the brunt of the damage. It might just be a stitch job. I’m guessing that he’s out of it because of shock.”

“Do we need to get him to a hospital?” Dean asked frantically.

“He hasn’t lost a whole lot of blood. Let’s get him to the car. I’ll check him out and we can take it from there.”

They each held one of Sam’s arms around their shoulders and slowly made their way back to the car. They got him laid out in the backseat and Dean waited nervously, holding a flashlight while Bobby looked at his brother’s side.

“Didn’t touch anything internal, just some muscle and skin. We can take care of this ourselves. Let’s find a motel and get this kid stitched up.”

Dean turned the key and started the engine. He had already changed the course of his life, he had lost Cas.

\-------------------------

He tried to pass off the job of stitching up Sam to Bobby, but it wasn’t working. Dean was the best, and he was the best under pressure. He couldn’t tell Bobby that he felt like he’d just been punched in the chest, that he couldn’t think straight, that he was mourning the loss of something that didn’t even exist. He had no choice, he had to hold back the tears and clear his mind of everything. Bobby handed him the curved upholstery needle threaded with dental floss and poured scotch over the wound, holding Sam down and periodically wiping away blood while Dean made neat stitches. He lost count at 30. He was robotic until he tied a neat knot and walked away to wash the blood off of his hands while Bobby bandaged the wound. His brother’s blood still covered his shirt when he wrapped his fingers around the neck of the bottle and walked outside into the cold night. He took a long drink and looked at his arms. There were still small flecks of dried blood that he’d missed when he’d washed up, but the bruises were gone. That’s what hurt the worst, the bruises that had been there less than 24 hours ago had disappeared. Cas had never touched him. It was all a memory, that had never actually happened. 

“I wish I were a betting man because this is exactly what I saw coming.”

“Well, you’re not even a man. You’re an angel, and an asshole,” Dean said wryly, pulling the bottle to his lips again. “So are you here to tell me that I’m not a man of my word? Do you want to talk about all of the things that I’m going to miss out on because I decided to save my little brother’s life? I did the right thing, I know the consequences, I’ll learn to live with them. So you can go the fuck away and consider your job done. Game over.”

“I must admit, you are taking this better than I expected.”

“And what did you expect, Zachariah? You put me here to watch me suffer in one way or another. Mission accomplished. You never gave me a guarantee that you would send Cas to raise my soul anyway. There was never a choice. So why don’t you fly your sanctimonious ass back to where it belongs and leave me the fuck alone.” Dean was trying to keep his voice low, he didn’t need Bobby hearing him.

“There’s really no reason to be angry, Dean. Yes, you altered your destiny but you did the right thing.”

“Oh for god’s sake…”

“Don’t bother asking for his help. Nobody knows where he is. If you are looking for heavenly intervention, I’m it.”

“Yeah, well heavenly intervention can kiss my ass. We’re done here.” Dean turned away and took the last swallow of the cheap scotch.

“Just in case you were wondering, Castiel is doing fine. He has no memory of last night. He has no memory of you whatsoever.”

Dean spun around and threw the bottle, watching it shatter into pieces on the asphalt where Zachariah has just been standing. He fell to his knees and dropped his head, hoping that nobody heard the glass break. He didn’t want to be found. He didn’t want to be touched or talked to. He wanted to forget.

\-------------------------

“Sam, I don’t know how many fucking stitches I had to sit here and tie last night. You can barely move and you want to go back to Bobby’s?”

“I’m fine, Dean. Yeah, my side hurts like hell, but it can hurt like hell here or it can hurt like hell at Bobby’s. From what he says we are only a few hours out. Some serious shit went down and we need to figure out it, but we can’t do it here. We need Bobby’s books and maps.”

“Sam…”

“Dean, I know that you are as stubborn as the day is long, but the kid is right. We ain’t gonna accomplish anything here. He can lay down in the backseat and you can drive like a normal human being for once. We’re wasting time just sittin’ here. If Sam is right, if that yellow eyed demon that killed your mother is out there and planning something, we need to be prepared. You’ve spent your entire life going after this, son. We need to finish it.”

Dean sighed and paced, rubbing his forehead while Sam and Bobby watched. Neither would say it, but they both saw John Winchester in front of them. “Fine, you’re right. Let’s go. Just don’t bleed in my fucking car,” he finally mumbled, grabbing his jacket and keys. 

This was all new, uncharted territory. Years ago he had stood over a bed and watched his brother’s skin turn mottled and grey with death. He had cried until he couldn’t cry anymore. He drank and cried again. He didn’t remember how he got there, but he stumbled to a crossroads and waited for a demon, ready to give up his soul. He asked for ten years, he was offered one and he took it. Now, his soul was his and he didn’t know how to move forward. He just knew that there was some heavy shit coming and they needed to be prepared.

\-------------------------

Watching Sam’s wincing and momentary closing of his eyes followed by a shallow groan were confusing. Sam was in pain, and Dean tried not to hover. He knew what Bobby and Sam were looking for, he knew where to find it. He needed to go outside, go somewhere before he said something that he wouldn’t be able to explain. He heard the shuffling when he stepped off the porch. Years ago, it had made him nervous. Now, he was comforted. He turned the corner and pulled Ellen Harvelle into his arms, crushing the maps and papers that she was holding. He led her into the house and watched her tearful reunion with Bobby, a large hug from Sam. He smiled again when he heard that Jo had been away at school and nowhere near the fire, that their good friend Ash was able to make it out. He felt the hollow pain when she quietly told them who had been killed. They quickly laid out maps and pored over weather patterns. He ventured outside again, impatient and on edge. He knew what was coming.

\-------------------------

He was pacing in the dirt, the word ‘Wyoming’ running through his mind like a mantra. He just needed to wait, they needed to see it. 

He already had his keys in his hand when Bobby came outside and called to him. They’d found the cemetery when the yellow eyed demon would be. He was behind the wheel of his car and turning up the gravel driveway before Sam could even close the passenger door.

\-------------------------

They watched the figure step between headstones and towards the mausoleum in the moonlight. He didn’t know that they were there, he didn’t know that Sam was still alive. They watched him take the antique revolver, a gun made by Samuel Colt, from his waistband. Dean’s gaze was drawn to that gun. It was the only weapon that would kill the demon and he needed to get his hands on it. He also knew that there would be consequences.

Sam had slipped away, but Dean knew where he was going. He waited for the confrontation, for the surprise in the young man’s face when he saw that he hadn’t killed Sam. He was following the orders of the yellow eyed demon when he slid the Colt into the elaborate lock on the mausoleum door. Sam held his gun out and Dean heard the shots while he watched the metallic gears turn. The door opened slowly and the shrieking of the demon souls being released was almost painful. It all became a blur. The Colt was in his hand as he faced the yellow eyed demon. Again, time seemed to stand still when he watched the bullet pierce it’s body, leaving behind a puff of yellow smoke and dust. He used his full weight to help Ellen and Bobby close the Hell’s Gate, glancing at the body lying between two headstones. To the best of his knowledge, that was the first time Sam had killed a human.

The heavy doors finally closed and they stood still and exhausted, watching the demon souls move across the sky. Dean couldn’t remember how many they’d let out. It was in the hundreds. 

Sam was alive, the yellow eyed demon was dead, hundreds of demon souls had been released, and Cas was lost to him forever.

He didn’t know if he wanted to cry or drink. He knew that he would end up doing both.

\-------------------------

He wasn’t counting down, he wasn’t explaining to Sam that he’d traded his soul. He’d been this age, he’d lived this day, but none of it made sense. If he could just wake up in a cheap motel room and feel Cas’s head on his chest, if this could all be a dream almost too vivid to believe, he could reconcile it. But this, this reality he didn’t know how to handle. He was quiet when he stepped outside of Bobby’s house, pulling the door closed gently behind him. He could hear the intensity and relief in Bobby, Ellen, and Sam’s intermingling mumblings. All he could do was shake his head and with a resigned sigh, walk down the stairs and start absentmindedly wandering through the heaps of scrap that had somehow, over the years, formed a maze. It covered acres of land, framing barns and sheds. He could still picture Sam and himself as children running and climbing through these piles. His age took him to a place where he was surprised that Bobby allowed them that freedom, but he knew that it was the only freedom that the Winchester boys really had. At Singer Salvage, their biggest concern was tetanus when they cut themselves on rusty metal. 

\-------------------------

It had been an hour, maybe two when he finally walked into one of the larger sheds and turned on the single bulb that hung in the middle. He’d always loved this building. It was where Bobby kept his eclectic collection of old tin signs, antique tools, unique finds. It was a quirky and messy museum that Dean had never been allowed to play in. He almost smiled when he walked around. These were memories, real memories that he could close his eyes and picture. Not the dream like thoughts that had haunted him for days. 

He wrapped his fingers around an antique wrench tightly enough to turn his knuckles white when he heard the sound behind him.

\-------------------------

“I said everything that I have to say in the parking lot the other night. Unless you miss my wit and sparkling personality, I don’t see any reason for you to be here.”

“I wanted to congratulate you, Dean. To finally exact your revenge after a lifetime of searching must be gratifying. Doing it twice must be unimaginably satisfying.”

Dean turned, his arm hanging limply by his side. “You know, Zachariah, I spent my entire life hating that yellow eyed thing. Killing it was all I lived for. But you? You’re right up there. You got what you wanted, why in the hell do you keep showing up?”

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Dean. If I were to get what I want, both you and that brother of yours would follow my directions.”

“It’s never going to happen. Now I get that you sent me back to a time before that whole bullshit plan of yours played out, but the answer is still going to be no. Sam didn’t have four months without me to watch over him while he started to walk an ugly path. And this time, I know you.”

“But you don’t have the help of your sweet angel this time, do you?”

“Don’t you dare fucking talk about him,” Dean growled.

“Dean, eventually you are going to have to move on with your life. Find a nice girl and settle down. Forget about him. He’s already forgotten about you. He wouldn’t know who you were if you passed him on the street,” Zachariah smirked.

Dean lifted the wrench and stepped forward before he was grabbed roughly by the back of his collar and knocked to the ground. The warm blood was seeping into his hair and across the concrete from the split in the back of his head. Everything was blurry, out of focus, confusing. He felt a sharp pain on his chest and looked up. He couldn’t see clearly, but he would recognize that shade of blue anywhere. It wasn’t a shade that knew him anymore, but it was a shade that he still couldn’t describe. He wanted to believe that he saw something. A flicker of recognition, a passing familiarity, but it was a need born of desperation. Cas’s thigh against his hip as he knelt over his body was distracting, he was fighting the urge to reach out and touch him. He finally lifted his hands as they locked gazes and wrapped them around Cas’s, pressing the angel blade against his chest just enough to draw blood. “Do it,” he cried. “Just fucking do it. End it, right here, right now.” Cas’s strength was fighting his as he tried to push the blade through his own chest, “If he really wants me dead, I need it to be you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Well, I think we’ve had enough fun for one night. We should probably let you get back to your little celebration in there.” 

Dean watched Cas pull the angel blade into his sleeve and stand at the sound of Zachariah’s voice. He searched Cas’s eyes, looking for anything, but Cas turned away.

“And, I can’t exactly have you going back in there with that nasty cut on the back of your head,” Zachariah bent down and placed two fingers on Dean’s forehead. “There you go, all better. We’ll talk again, Dean.”

Dean barely heard the swishing sound of the angels disappearing when he rolled on his side and let the tears come.

\-------------------------

The only light in the house was the low lamp next to the couch. Bobby had purposely left a bottle and clean glass on his desk. He knew that they all thought that killing the demon had changed him, that releasing hundreds of others had changed him, but he’d already been down this road. Now he had to live without checking the calendar to see how many days he had left. He didn’t have to see the look of guilt in Sam’s eyes. But, they didn’t have the weapons and as much as it hurt, Zachariah was right. They didn’t have an angel on their side. This was their fight and he didn’t know how they were going to get through it, but they made the mess and they needed to clean it up. He finished his drink and poured another. He finally turned off the lamp and laid on the couch, trying to convince himself that what he saw tonight wasn’t really Cas.

\-------------------------

Exorcisms, that’s all they had. There were no weapons, just words. It was slow and clumsy to lure them into the trap and wait while Sam read the Latin Rite. Their only protection was to stand inside of the devil’s trap while the other demons waited just outside of the circle for their turn at a Winchester. They didn’t know exactly how many had been let out through the Hell’s gate, but Dean didn’t feel like they ever had the upper hand. It felt exhausting and pointless, but necessary. Word spread, other hunters knew, and the demons became the Winchester’s problem. 

\-------------------------

Dean was frustrated. Dean was always frustrated. Sam would look at him and just know that there was something his brother wasn’t telling him, but the quickest way to anger Dean was to push him. 

Sam was going over some of Ash’s maps, checking weather patterns on his computer, trying to find any sign of a group instead of the small handfuls of demons they came across as they moved from town to town. Dean was, as usual, sitting on his bed with a glass of scotch and the remote control in his hand. They both looked up when they heard the knock at the door. Dean silently set his glass down and slid off the bed, reaching for his gun. Sam pressed his body against the wall next to the door while Dean reached for the knob. Sam swallowed hard and nodded, feeling that familiar tightening in his gut. The door swung open and he pulled his gun, aiming it just inches from the visitor’s head. Dean let out a defeated sigh and dropped his arm, signaling for Sam to do the same. “It’s okay, Sam. I know him, kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, we uh bumped into each other once. You might as well let him in,” Dean mumbled, turning his back and flinching when he heard the door close. He couldn’t bring himself to turn around. “What are you doing here?”

“I was sent to watch over you,” the familiar gravely voice said softly.

“Nice. You must have pissed somebody off if you ended up on Winchester watch. See anything interesting yet?”

“You’re exorcising demons.”

“Uh, Dean,” Sam asked. “Who in the hell is this and what in the hell are you talking about?”

“Oh, I’m sorry Sam. I should have introduced myself. My name is Castiel.”

“Your name is Castiel, you know who I am, and you were sent to watch over us?” Sam chuckled in disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Dean? You knew about this?”

“I knew about him, I wasn’t aware of the direction his career was taking.”

“His career? Wait, what?”

Dean finally turned around and looked at his brother. Sam was sitting in the chair looking from Castiel to Dean and back at Castiel. “So uh, Castiel, would you care to enlighten my brother? Enlighten...no pun intended.”

“I’m an angel of the lord, Sam.”

Sam’s jaw dropped and Dean’s eyebrows raised. He almost smiled at his brother’s face, but he was too distracted by his need to convince himself that the body in the room, it wasn’t his Cas. Not anymore. He’d spent weeks, months mourning the loss and he couldn’t look into those blue eyes and let this derail him.

“Wait, Dean, you knew about this? About angels?”

“Yeah, I had a run in with his boss a while ago,” he muttered, pulling the glass to his lips. “Good old Cas...tiel was there on security detail.”

“You had a run in with his boss? When were you going to tell me about this?”

“Probably when one of them showed up at the door and introduced himself. My questions is, why in the hell did you show up at the door? I hate to say it, but when you are supposed to be watching somebody, knocking on the door and announcing it probably isn’t the best idea. Your type is lot sneakier than that.”

“My type?” Castiel cocked his head in confusion, but Dean still refused to meet his eyes.

“Yeah, your type. Winged do-gooder assholes.”

“Okay, you seem to know a lot about angels, Dean,” Sam was shaking his head in disbelief.

“You can learn a lot during one little run in. So, I know how you work. I can almost guarantee that knocking on my door and announcing your intentions isn’t exactly part of your work orders. Then again, I wouldn’t put it past your psycho boss.”

“He doesn’t know that I’m here.”

“He does now,” Dean smirked, finally looking at Castiel. “I’m pretty sure I know why you got put on Winchester watch. I also know that he is watching every move that you make so if you’re on angel radio, he knows that you’re talking to me. If you shut off angel radio, he knows that there’s a reason.”

“Angel radio?”

“It’s a collective conscious, Sam. All angels can tune into each other’s thoughts, to a certain degree,” Castiel explained.

“And Dean, you knew this how?”

Dean turned, still almost amused by the look on his brother’s face. “Little birdie told me. So, I’m guessing that you’ve spent what, weeks doing that whole invisibility thing? Taking notes and passing them on? Now why did you show up at my door?”

“I can’t do it anymore.”

“So, you came to tell us goodbye? As sweet as that is, we didn’t know you were here so we’re really not out anything.”

“You misunderstand me, Dean. I’m here to help you.”

“That sounds like free will, Cas...tiel. Angel radio has definitely been turned off,” Dean chuckled. “So how exactly do you plan to help?”

“Because of the proph….”

Dean grabbed Castiel by the arm, “that bottle is pretty much empty and I can almost guarantee that I’ll need another one before the night is over. I’m just going to walk to the market down the street real quick. I’m taking the angel with me.” He dragged Castiel out of the room and let the door close hard behind them. “As far as I know, Sam is clueless when it comes to the prophecy and I plan to keep it that way,” he whispered furiously.

“He’ll find out eventually, Dean.”

Dean finally let go of Castiel’s arm and locked eyes, “Maybe he will. Hell, he probably will. But not tonight, not here, and not from one of Zachariah’s lackeys. If anybody is going to tell him that the yellow eyed bastard killed our mother because she walked in on him dripping blood into Sam’s mouth, if he is ever going to find out that he carries demon blood, it’s going to be from me. I get that you assholes need him to play the part of Lucifer’s vessel for the big showdown. Hell, I was a little honored when I was asked to co-star as Michael, but it isn’t going to fucking happen and so he doesn’t need to know about it. I don’t want to hear the words ‘prophecy’, ‘apocalypse’, or ‘demon blood’. Stay here until I get back. No going back into that room, no talking to my brother. Understood?” Dean didn’t wait for a response before he started walking across the parking lot, his body trembling.

\-------------------------

Dean opened the fresh bottle, offering a cup to Sam. He handed it to him and poured one for himself, not bothering to ask Castiel.

“You claim that you had one run in with his boss, but you seem to know an awful lot about angels. Then, when he tries to talk, you drag him outside. You’re hiding something, and you’re hiding something big.”

“Maybe I finally got bored and read one of the Bibles they always stuff in the nightstands. Maybe I thought he needed some fresh air.”

“Or maybe you didn’t want him to talk about the demon blood.”

Dean stopped pacing and sat down on the edge of his bed, “How in the hell…”

“You don’t think that when I was with yellow eyes he didn’t talk? He told me about the demon blood. He told me about his master race.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“Neither did you.”

Dean laid back on his bed and threw his arm over his eyes. “I was trying to protect you, Sammy.”

“From what? We got him, you killed him.”

“Yeah,” Dean grunted as he sat up and reached for his drink. “And let hundreds of demons out of a Hell’s Gate in the process. Now apparently we are important enough to be under angel watch. You never did tell us what in the hell you mean by you want to help us,” Dean glanced at Castiel.

“I know Zachariah’s intentions.”

Dean groaned, hoping that Sam didn’t ask.

“Yeah, and that helps us how?” Dean knew that he was being an asshole. Right now, he needed to be an asshole.

“I’ve begun to question my orders. I’ve begun to question the greater good.”

Dean remembered that same voice saying those same words when Cas turned on his family to help them. So much came rushing back and hit him. Fights, with one another and against one another. Arguments that inevitably ended when one of them walked away. The sacrifices Cas had made for him, the risks that he had taken. The walls were closing in, he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Wordlessly he stood up, grabbed his jacket, and walked outside.

\-------------------------

“Is he okay?” Castiel looked at Sam.

“Probably not. I don’t know how long you’ve been around or whatever, I don’t know how much you know, but he hasn’t been the same since he killed that yellow eyed demon.”

“Dean has a reputation for being difficult.”

“Yeah, well he’s worked hard to earn it. Bobby thinks that he just needs some time to figure out where he fits. Bobby is our…”

“Uncle, I know.”

“Wow, that really is pretty fucking creepy. So you still haven’t answered Dean. You said that you want to help us. Help us with what?”

“I want to keep you alive.”

\-------------------------

“Keeping us alive doesn’t mean a fucking thing, Sam,” Dean yelled. “These angels, they aren’t much better than demons. They have an agenda. Of course they want to keep us alive until the time is right and they need something from us. You expect me to buy into this bullshit about questioning orders and the greater good?” It hurt to say the words, but he knew how Zachariah worked and as much as he hated it, he didn’t trust Castiel. “You don’t think that gaining the Winchesters trust might work to their advantage?”

“What in the hell are you even talking about? How would our trust work to their advantage? And how do you know that they have an agenda? Isn’t it possible that maybe for once somebody actually wants to help us?”

“No,” Dean turned away, aware that Castiel was sitting in the room listening to the brothers fight. “What does he get out of keeping us alive? What has he done to earn our trust? He shows up at the fucking door to tell us that he’s been watching us, which is pretty fucking creepy, and then goes on to explain that he’s in the mood for some free will? And this is all for the benefit of the dirty hunters who opened up Hell’s Gate. You don’t find the timing a little too convenient, Sam?”

“Wouldn’t it be in their best interest to help us with the demon problem?”

“Their best interests are all about them. They probably don’t give a shit about the demon problem. Let the Winchesters handle it.”

“God Dean, what is your problem?”

“I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anybody.”

“Right, and look, I’m still alive. You checked your maps and all of that other bullshit, we have somewhere we need to be tomorrow and I need a few hours of sleep. So you,” Dean turned to Castiel, “can either leave or go back into invisibility mode. I’ve been told that I snore, so sorry about that. And you,” he turned to Sam, “can do whatever in the fuck it is that you do, as long as you do it quietly. Just remember Sam, it’s always been you and me. We’ve never relied on anyone else, and I’m not about to start now.” He pulled off his boots and crawled under the blanket fully clothed. He just kept repeating the name ‘Castiel’ over and over in his head. That angel sitting at the table, that wasn’t his Cas. That was Castiel, an angel of the lord.

\-------------------------

It was a larger group than normal, and Dean was exhausted. At least when they taunted him they couldn’t use his time spent in Hell or his relationship with an angel as leverage. He felt like he’d been fighting for hours, taking moments to stand inside of the devil’s trap and catch his breath while Sam exorcised. He watched his brother take a step back away from the demon thrashing in the chair and lose his footing, stepping outside of the trap. It was at least two, possibly three who grabbed Sam from behind. Dean panicked. He could fight, but he couldn’t take them all on. That’s when he felt the cold metal press against his palm and without a thought he plunged the sharp point through bodies, shielding his eyes against the flashing light the demon souls put off before they died. He finally stopped and looked around, he’d gotten them all. He was panting when he wiped the blade on his pants to clean off the blood.

“What in the hell?” Sam asked, his jaw almost slack, eyes opened wide.

“Nope, quite the opposite. You can come out now,” Dean called. Sam’s eyes grew wider when Castiel emerged from the shadows. Dean handed the blade back without even looking at him. “Thanks,” he said quietly and started walking away.

“So that’s…”

“It’s an angel blade, Sam. It is designed to kill almost anything.”

“Wait, you knew this?” Sam called to his brother’s retreating back.

“Yup. Are you coming with me or are you going to stand around talking about celestial weaponry?”

\-------------------------

Sam took the worst beating, the first shower defaulted to him. Dean sat awkwardly, five feet away from Castiel with a drink in his hand. He knew that if Castiel were to become a fixture in their lives again, he would eventually need to stop drinking just to calm himself enough to talk.

“So, chances are we’ll be going to get something to eat after my lukewarm shower. I know that you have that whole don’t need to eat thing going on, but Sam will invite you.”

“How do you know that I don’t eat?”

“A little birdie told me,” Dean chuckled.

“You seem to know a lot about angels.”

“Yeah well,” Dean let the cheap liquor warm his chest and stomach before he spoke. “It’s a very informative little birdie.”

“You’re hiding something, Dean.”

They heard the water shut off and Dean squatted down to reach into his bag for clean clothes. “I hide a lot of things.”

“Even from your brother?”

“Especially from my brother,” Dean turned his head and they locked eyes.

“Does it become difficult to keep everything in?”

“Nope. Letting somebody know everything about you is the difficult part. Now, you can either come with us and push food around on your plate, or you are welcome to leave. It’s up to you.”

“Why do I get the feeling that you want me to leave?”

“Again Castiel, it’s up to you.”

Dean passed Sam on his way to the shower, but didn’t say a word. He heard the low hum of voices before he turned the handle, hoping that Sam had left him some hot water.

\-------------------------

Of course Sam invited Castiel, and of course Castiel accepted. Dean shook his head when, as expected, the angel just pushed the food around on his plate. “So let me ask you a question,” he said, his mouth full. “You want to help. I have no doubt that Zach and the rest of the winged assholes have figured that out. Why does it matter to you? We let the Hell’s Gate open, and chances are we’re at the top of the scumbag hunters list. I’m guessing your kind probably keeps lists, it seems like the type of thing that you’d do. So why us? What do you get out of helping the Winchesters?”

“I’ve been watching you for awhile…”

“Yeah, and just so you know, that’s a little disturbing.”

“You aren’t what I expected, Dean. You are not the cold blooded killer that I had imagined.”

“Then you haven’t watched long enough. I’m not exactly Miss Congeniality material. Best case scenario for you is that you get pulled and punished. Now I’m not sure exactly how things work up there, but I’m going to go with it won’t be pretty. Worst case scenario, that whole smiting thing comes into play. We aren’t fucking worth it.”

“I no longer believe. I can’t let them follow through with their…”

“Yeah, well you can let me worry about that. As far as you not believing, that’s on you. There has to be some type of re-education bullshit that they can put you through. I mean, I know that it’s possible for them to wipe your memory or change your conscious or whatever in the hell it is that they do.”

“How do you know about that?”

“The little birdie is full of fun facts,” Dean smirked.

“Are you putting yourself in danger by being here?” Sam asked.

“Yes.”

“So why? I mean I hate admitting it when Dean is right, but we aren’t worth it.”

“There are plans, and they involve you.”

Dean shook his head before turning to look into Castiel’s eyes.

“Because of the demon’s blood?”

“Partially, yes.”

“Well, we’re kind of waist deep in live demon’s right now, so that takes priority over any future plans. We’ve come this far and somehow survived, we’ll be fine on our own.”

“You don’t understand, Dean.”

“No Castiel, I do understand,” Dean slammed his hand on the table, causing the plates to jump and nearby customers to look. “I understand a hell of a lot more than you think, and I know that as much as a low level angel wants to help, at the end of the day that just puts an extra life on the line that I need to watch out for.”

“I’m an angel, I’m infinite.”

“Oh yeah? So if I pulled that blade out of your sleeve right now and pressed it against your chest, you’d still be infinite? There is a way to kill everything, you included. Don’t think that they will hesitate to take you out because of us. I know what Zachariah wants, Castiel. I know a hell of a lot more than I want to know and I know that it ends bloody and brutal. Why in the hell would you want a seat in the front row to the action? Or is that what this is about? Gain our trust and get a ticket to the big show? I don’t know if you’ve realized it, but there is a giant fucking loophole in Zachariah’s plan. He will continue to fuck with me until the day that I die bloody and end up downstairs, I can accept that. But his bullshit manipulations are never going to happen. Get out while you can. Take the slap on the wrist and see if they trust you to give you better orders next time.” He stood and pulled his keys out of his pocket, sliding them across the table to Sam. “I’m done here so I’m going to walk back to the motel. You wreck my car, I will hurt you.”

Sam and Cas watched Dean’s retreating back as the restaurant doors closed behind him.

\-------------------------

When Sam was met by silence and not a soft snore, he knew that Dean was laying on his bed in the low light of the lamp, awake but probably staring at the wall. He didn’t understand what was going on. He knew that if he asked Dean, he would just lie and Castiel had feigned ignorance. They had agreed that it would be best for Sam to return to the room alone, but from what he’d heard, that didn’t necessarily mean that Castiel wasn’t there somewhere. Sam sighed as he pulled off his shoes. He’d never really understood his brother’s mood swings, but this? This was something new and he didn’t know how to handle it.

\-------------------------

Another fight. Two or three demons exorcised, the rest killed at Dean’s hands when Castiel showed up unannounced and handed him the angel blade. Dean resisted at first, but this was life and death. This was Sam’s life and death and he needed to do what was right without his emotions getting in the way. 

This became the pattern. Dean learned to wait impatiently near the shadows to feel the cold blade pressed against his palm. He no longer shivered when their skin accidentally touched, tears didn’t well up when he saw the blue eyes. The skin, it wasn’t his to touch, the eyes held no memories or secrets. This angel Castiel, he looked like Cas but that is where the similarities ended. He hated putting his Cas in the rearview mirror, but it’s what he had to do. 

\-------------------------

“We’ve been going for weeks. I think it’s time we head to Bobby’s for a breather.”

Sam just looked up from where he was pulling his shoes on and nodded, “I’m on board with that. What about…”

They’d both come to the realization that talking about Castiel was never guaranteed to be a private conversation. “What about him?”

“Don’t you think that Bobby might be interested? I mean we haven’t exactly told him that we’ve been working with an angel.”

Dean sighed. Bobby’s house was where he found comfort and respite, but Sam was right. “If we hear from him, which will be soon I’m guessing, then we can ask. He may not want to. More humans equals more trouble.” Dean was surprised that Castiel was still around, that Zachariah hadn’t pulled him back into the fold. He knew that Castiel’s presence was for his benefit, that he was really just a pawn. Unfortunately for Zachariah, it wasn’t working. He’d moved past the painful part and had taken to looking at the angel Castiel as a clumsy pain in his ass more than anything.

Of course Castiel agreed and climbed into the backseat of the car before they headed to Sioux Falls, to the only place that ever made them feel like they were at home.

\-------------------------

The boys saw the truck parked on the gravel drive and looked at each other, almost smiling. “Huh,” Sam laughed. “I wonder what Bobby’s been up to.”

“Her business and home burned down, Sam. Maybe he’s just giving her a place to stay,” Dean couldn’t help but grin.

“Yeah, a place to stay. We’ll stick with that. At least we know that the food will be edible.”

They got out of the car and watched the attractive older brunette come bounding down the stairs, wrapping her arms around Dean and then Sam. Bobby was on her heels to pull both of the boys into bear hugs. 

“Sorry, maybe we should have called before we just showed up,” Sam smiled.

“Sam Winchester, this is your home. Why would you need to call before you showed up?” Ellen asked indignantly. Dean had to hide his grin, but nothing got past Bobby. Both boys earned an annoyed look from the older man. “Now who is that handsome friend of yours hiding next to the car?”

Dean looked over his shoulder and could see Castiel standing next to the Impala, looking at the ground. “I’d say hitchhiker, but there’s a little more to it than that. I’m seriously hoping that Bobby let you take over cooking duty,” Dean flashed Ellen one of his signature grins.

“Are you gripin’ about my cooking? All of the years and it ain’t killed you yet,” Bobby grumbled.

“Yes, I’m making dinner right now so why don’t you boys come in and put your things down.”

Sam gestured to Castiel and he reluctantly followed them into the house. 

“I’m hoping that I made enough to feed everyone.”

“I don’t need to eat, but thank you,” Cas almost whispered.

“He’s watching his girlish figure,” Dean smiled. He let Bobby pour him a drink before he sat down. It felt good to be home.

\-------------------------

After dinner, Bobby sat at his large desk. Ellen, Sam, and Dean all found places on the couch or a chair. Castiel stood just outside of the shadows.

“Rumor has it that you boys have been workin’ your way through these demons pretty quick. I know that all you’ve got right now are the exorcisms, but I’m hearin’ stories.”

“Stories?” Dean questioned.

“Well, you don’t make your way through a dozen demons in one night and come away with barely a scratch.”

“Oh, I get plenty of scratches. Black eyes, split lips, all of that fun shit.”

“Yeah, well you get a kick out of those, Dean. I’m talking time frames here, boys. It don’t add up. What’s going on?”

Castiel had stopped looking at Dean for guidance, so he turned to Sam nervously. 

“Well, this is where our hitchhiker friend comes into play,” Sam said evenly. “Sorry we didn’t do the whole formal introduction thing. Bobby, Ellen, this is Castiel.”

“Castiel? Now that’s an interesting name.”

Castiel looked at Ellen and then at the floor. Sam had told him that her husband had been a hunter, but he was still extremely uncomfortable.

“Is it biblical?” Ellen continued.

“Straight out of,” Dean smiled. “We were all there when the Hell’s Gate opened. We know that demons exist. Shit, you all watched me kill one. Well, as it turns out that big book is right. They do have a flip side. Castiel here, he’s an angel of the lord.” Dean leaned back and finished his drink, waiting for the reaction. Sam shot him a look and he just shrugged his shoulders. They had to find out somehow.

“A what?” Bobby leaned forward.

“An angel, Bobby. Now they aren’t as cute and cuddly as you’d think, but he’s legit. His wingspan is too big for him to whip them out in here, but if you can talk him out of his coats and shirt, I’m guessing you’d see the two marks on his back. Wing storage.” Dean poured another drink and was starting to feel the effects.

Cas turned to him, his eyes full of shock. They’d never talked about his wings. “I’d like to meet this little birdie,” he said quietly.

“Okay, supposin’ that I believe this story about that boy being an angel, what does that have to do with your sudden high batting average when it comes to the demons?”

Castiel slowly slid his angel blade out of his sleeve and handed it to Bobby. “It’s an angel blade,” he said, almost too quietly to hear. “It is made to kill anything, including angels. As far as we know, it is one of the more powerful weapons.”

“And it kills demons?”

“Like a charm,” Dean smiled. “Sometimes if you aim it just right, you can get two in one.”

“And you’ve been using this thing?”

“Mostly Dean has,” Castiel said softly, his nervousness was almost palpable. “He’s the fastest of the three of us. It makes sense to let him have it.”

“Okay, let me wrap my head around this. Heaven actually sent an angel, just one, to help you two fight demons?”

“Oh no,” Dean said. “This is where the story get’s good. It’s kinda complicated so I’ll just give you the highlight reel. Apparently one of the big bad’s up there doesn’t like me very much. I don’t get it, I’m a pretty likable guy. Anyway, this poor sucker was given Winchester watch. Keep an eye on us and report back, that type of shit. Well, he goes on this free will rampage and decides to show himself, tell us about his orders, and offers to help. He’s pretty much been around ever since.”

“But why?” Ellen asked, her eyes darting around the room.

“That is the million dollar question. He’s never really explained why. He just shows up.”

“Dean, you don’t need to be such an asshole.”

“Okay Sam, yes I do need to be an asshole, it’s part of my charm. And, he doesn’t have feelings. None of them do. It’s not like what I say even matters. I’m pointing out the facts.”

“And you’re being an asshole.”

“Fine, Sam.” Dean groaned, standing up and finishing his drink. “Then you go ahead and tell the once upon a time version about the blue eyed angel who showed up to save the dirty hunters in distress. I need some air.”

They all jumped when the door slammed behind him.

\-------------------------

“What is wrong with him?” Ellen asked, her voice full of concern.

“He hasn’t been the same since he killed that yellow eyed demon. He’s on edge, he doesn’t really talk, he’s drinking more,” Sam sighed.

“Everything changed for that boy when he killed that demon, we need to remember that. All your father ever taught him was to protect you and find that yellow eyed bastard. He almost lost you and he shot that thing within a matter of days. Of course his head ain’t going to be screwed on right. He needs time.”

“But his temper, Bobby…”

“Dean’s always had a hell of a temper. So he was an asshole about the angel, that’s just Dean. I ain’t saying it’s right, but we all know that’s how he is. Leave him be, Sam.”

\-------------------------

It was strange, looking at the date but not worrying about how many months had passed. Killing demons with an angel blade instead of working regular cases. Dealing with Castiel, knowing that he’d never be Cas. Waiting for Zachariah to drop the other shoe. He’d been this age, he’d lived this life, but he’d never been through any of this before. He wandered to the back of the lot, back to the shed where Zachariah had confronted him. He flipped on the light and looked around. The wrench that he’d held in his hand had been picked up and put away. The floor still bore a rust colored stain from where his head had split open. Bobby must have assumed that it was actual rust. He closed his eyes when he heard the faint rustling.

\-------------------------

“Back to the scene of the crime?”

“I wasn’t going to kill you that night.”

“Of course you weren’t. That would have taken all of the fun out of it for Zachariah. He wanted to see me suffer.”

“Suffer? I’ve seen you hit your head many times. I’ve offered to heal you many times, although you very rarely allow me to.”

Dean rubbed his forehead and started walking around the shed. “That had nothing to do with the suffering. We’ll just call it an inside joke between me and your boss.”

“Are you always this cryptic, Dean?”

“Pretty much. You know, sometimes there are questions that if you answer, it just leads to more questions. Eventually you run out of answers and either none of it makes sense, or you sound like you’re fucking crazy. Or if you’re really lucky, both. I told you once that I hide things, I hide a lot of things. My...I guess you’d say ‘relationship’ with Zachariah is one of those things.”

“But how…”

“Again with the questions. You don’t need to know.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Castiel said softly.

“You were a guard dog. Given the right command, you would have shoved that blade through my chest. I don’t hold it against you.”

“You tried to get me to shove the blade through your chest, Dean. You wrapped your hands around mine and pulled. You told me that if you were going to die that night, you wanted it to be me. You apologized.”

“Add that to your list of cryptic statements by Dean Winchester. That one,” he said, turning around to face Castiel, “I’ll never explain.”

“You called me Cas. You knew who I was.”

“You’re right, I did. But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Sam trusts me. At times I believe that he may even like me. You feel neither towards me.”

“Don’t take it personally,” Dean tried to smile. “Everyone I trust and like is inside that house right now.”

“In battle, you don’t question my presence. But you can barely look at me otherwise.”

“What is this, Castiel? Did you come out here so that we could share our feelings? You don’t have any, and there is no way you could ever understand the first thing about mine.” Dean could feel the alcohol and emotional exhaustion kicking in. “My entire life I’ve had one weakness, and that was my brother. I don’t know how in the hell it happened, but one day I woke up and realized that I had two weaknesses. I was stupid enough to let somebody else in. Somebody who knew me better than I know myself. He was my world. My life fucking revolved around him. I would have done anything, absolutely anything, that he wanted me to do. I felt things that I knew I didn’t deserve, but for some reason he was blind enough to think that I did,” Dean didn’t bother to wipe away the tears that had started slowly coursing down his cheeks.

“What happened?” Cas whispered.

“He was taken from me.”

“Killed?”

“No, it sounds heartless, but killed would have been easier. I don’t know why I’m telling you any of this. Nobody else knows.”

“About what happened?”

“About him, about any of it. But I’ll finish the story for you. Why the hell not, we’ve come this far. He was ripped out of my arms. Physically taken from me. He tried so hard to fight that it left bruises on my skin.”

“So he might still be alive…”

“Oh, I know he’s alive, but I have to tell myself that he’s dead. That he died the night they took him. I shouldn’t even be talking about this,” Dean wiped his hand down his face. “Just go.” He couldn’t breathe when he felt Castiel’s fingers wrap around his arm and pull him into a hug. He let himself be held, burying his face in Castiel’s neck, taking in the scent of his skin before he let the reality set it. This wasn’t Cas. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, pushing Castiel away gently and walking out of the shed.

\-------------------------

They tried not to tip toe around Dean, but it wasn’t easy. He was restless, a caged animal that was wound so tightly they just wanted to avoid the shrapnel if he exploded. The only things that got him through these phases were hunting, drinking, and working on his car. He spent days either bent over his car or laying underneath it, his beer cooler just feet away. 

Castiel came and went, never staying gone for long, but never meeting Dean’s eyes. 

Sam had agreed to go into town with Ellen and Bobby to pick up Ellen’s daughter, Jo. School was on break, and Bobby’s was the only home she had to go to. They all let out a sigh of relief when they pulled onto the highway. They loved Dean, but the tension was thick and at times they felt like they couldn’t breathe. 

\-------------------------

Dean had the music loud to drown out his thoughts. At first he thought that they’d come back sooner than expected and it was either Sam or Bobby who lowered the volume, but then he turned his head and saw the shine of the cheap dress shoes. He groaned before he slid out from under his car, reached for a cold beer, and sat on the cooler.

“What in the hell could you possibly want?”

“Oh, I’m just here to check in.”

Dean felt the pounding in his head begin when Zachariah started to run his fingers along Bobby’s tools that had been laid out on top of the toolbox. Those were Bobby’s things, they didn’t deserve the grime left by the hands of something that had the audacity to call itself an angel. “Check in? That’s nice of you. Everything is fine. The wife and kids are good. I’m hoping for a promotion to assistant manager soon. Cut the bullshit, why are you here?”

“I seem to have an angel showing free will.”

“Hey, if you can’t control your underlings, that’s not exactly my problem.”

“It isn’t the first time, Dean.”

“Yeah well, the circumstances are a little different. Maybe I’m just that charismatic. They are all willing to walk away from the fold for my wit, charm, and dreamy green eyes.”

“Not all, just one. We both know that.”

“I seriously don’t know what in the hell you are talking about. Can I get back to replacing my oil pan?”

“He’s helping you.”

“Well, apparently he got tired of watching. Turns out he doesn’t get off on it like you do. Maybe you should stick to doing your own dirty work. If you’re that fucking concerned about him helping us, why are you coming to me? It’s not like you can’t just pull him back upstairs. I think we both know that.”

“Oh, I don’t really care if he helps. I sent him here for your benefit. You can keep your little pet.”

“And you have no idea how much I appreciate that,” Dean said with a wry grin. “Unfortunately for you, it hasn’t worked. You sent some angel named Castiel down here to lend a hand. Seems like an okay guy, for an angel.”

“You want me to believe that it doesn’t bother you to be that close to your precious Cas?”

“Cas died the night that you took him from me. I’ve accepted that. Now is this really why you came here?”

“I wanted to discuss the prophecy.”

“Oh right, that whole apocalypse thingy. I’ve been thinking about it and not only is the answer still no, it will always be no, and you kind of fucked up.”

“And how exactly did I do that?” Zachariah started pacing.

“It’s been awhile since I read the good parts of Revelations, so I may forget some of the details, but I’m pretty sure I remember the basics. You need 66 seals to break in order for the apocalypse to start. Did I get that right? 66?”

Zachariah nodded.

“Okay, so far so good. Now if I remember correctly the first seal is ‘A righteous man sheds blood in hell. As he breaks so to shall it break.’ Did I get that one right too?”

Zachariah nodded.

“Now, I have absolutely no idea who came up with the idea that Dean Winchester is a righteous man, but considering that we’ve played this game before, I know that I’m your guy. I didn’t go to Hell, asshole. The seals are still intact. I don’t even have to tell you no anymore because it isn’t going to happen. Not until you find two other suckers to play your fucked up game.”

“Okay, you’ve got me there. But did you stop and think about Sam’s mortality? You may have saved him once, but he could still die at any time. And if he did, what would Dean Winchester do? Don’t bother to answer that, we both know that your first stop would be a crossroads.”

“Maybe you’re right. But that righteous man needs to shed blood in Hell, I know that now.”

“Oh Dean, I understand that you survived 40 years, but do you think that you could stay on that rack forever? You are strong, I will give you that, but eventually you would step down. Tell me, do you still hear the tortured cries? Can you still smell the burning flesh?”

“You son of a…” Dean started to stand when he felt pressure on his shoulder. “I almost forgot, you’re afraid to travel alone you pompous dick.”

“I’m guessing that all of those nights that you spent with your arms wrapped around your angel helped you forget about the things that you saw...the things that you did. You could go back at any time, Dean. And yes, we would raise your soul again. Only this time I would find the right angel to do the job and not one who is soft and broken. It will only be a matter of time before you are back in a position of owing me your life, and I’m willing to wait.”

“It’s never going to happen,” Dean said, his eyes blazing.

“We’ll see about that. I should probably leave before your family gets back, I like to keep these conversations private. We’ll talk again.”

Dean heard the soft swishing and stood up to throw his bottle against a pile of scrap. He didn’t notice Castiel sitting on the stairs just feet away.

\-------------------------

“How much did you hear?” Dean asked softly.

“Too much, not enough, I don’t know,” Castiel answered, looking up into those tortured green eyes. “It didn’t make sense if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Yeah, well it doesn’t always make a lot of sense to me, and I’m the one having the conversation,” Dean laid down and started to slide under his car.

“It was him, wasn’t it? Zachariah was the one who took him.”

“Yeah,” Dean said quietly. “All I had left were bruises on my arms, and even they were gone a few hours later.”

“I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Don’t be. It was my fault. I let him become my weakness.”

\-------------------------

Dean heard his name as a girlish squeal and was hit full on by a beautiful blonde who wrapped her arms around him and pressed her lips against his cheek. When he first met Jo, he considered it, but he knew that Ellen would string him up if he tried. That didn’t stop him from considering it, but it stopped him from acting on it. She was young, she was beautiful, and she understood hunters. Her father had been one, and she’d wanted to follow in his footsteps. She still pouted about being sidelined and sent to college. 

“Hey Jo,” he smiled, trying to make their embrace a little more friendly than sexual. The last thing he wanted was to encourage her. “How’s school?”

“Boring. I don’t think she understands that as soon as I’m done, I will start hunting.”

“Yeah, well the game has changed so you might want to re-think that idea, kiddo.” She gave him a look before she started up the stairs and into the house. Being called ‘kiddo’ was like being put in the baby sister zone, which is exactly what Dean wanted and the opposite of what Jo wanted. He chuckled as she walked away and bent back over his engine.

\-------------------------

Castiel had disappeared. Maybe he didn’t want to be scrutinized again, maybe he was still trying to understand the things that he had heard. Either way, it made dinner easier. Nobody had to explain to Jo that they were now working with an angel. In fact, Ellen laid down the law that there would be no hunting talk at the table. 

Dean was distracted. He leaned his head back against the couch and heard the hum of voices going on around him, but didn’t hear a word that was said. He didn’t see the gestures and whispers when Jo started to talk to him. He didn’t hear them tell her quietly to just leave him alone, that he was having a hard time, that he needed space. He did mumble goodnight as they left one by one and went upstairs to the bedroom, leaving him alone on the couch. He finally kicked off his boots and laid down, turning off the lamp and pulling the blanket over him.

\-------------------------

He hadn’t dreamt about Cas since the night that he’d lost him, but after the things that Zachariah has said, all of the months of holding back the pictures and the memories had shattered and he was faced with losing what he had loved the most.

_He could feel the warm hands and the soft mouth as they moved across his body. Laying in bed in the dark with Cas was his heaven. It wasn’t the sex, not really. It was Cas and it was Dean, nothing else. Dean wasn’t a hunter, Cas wasn’t an angel, they were lovers. They were everything. He felt the needy lips against his, he felt the shiver when his fingertips trailed across velvety skin. Each knew every inch of the other. They touched and kissed gently, moaning and whispering. “You know that I need you, Cas” Dean whispered. “I will always need you. I can’t picture a world without you in it. I lo…”_

_He felt the cold air and was unable to move. Cas was gone. The taut body, the sensual hands, tender lips, and perfect blue eyes...they were lost to him._

\-------------------------

Most nights Castiel stood in the corner. Some nights he sat in a chair. Very rarely he took of his coats and sat on the floor, leaning against the bed or the couch listening to the soft snore. Since they had been at Bobby’s he’d almost missed the sound of Sam talking in his sleep, not that anything he said made sense. He didn’t know why he felt close to Dean when he was sleeping. Maybe it was the soft and peaceful look on his face. Maybe it was the way he mumbled when he switched positions. Something about him just seemed so, human. There was no anger or sarcasm. No crypticism or pain. He felt like in some ways, he was able to see Dean for who he could be, for the person he was when he dropped his guard. He leaned his head back and a slow smile started when he heard the mumbling, but he sat up when it turned into something else. Dean was groaning and softly crying, his body shaking. He was trying to speak, but all Cas could hear was him uttering a quiet ‘no’ repeatedly. He moved to Dean’s side, unsure of what to do. It had to be a nightmare, he needed to somehow stop it. He felt Dean’s pain in his chest when he reached out and touched his face. He was frozen in place when he saw Dean’s eyes open, his chest heaving. 

Castiel couldn’t move, he didn’t trust himself to speak.

“I felt it...it happened again…” Dean cried quietly. Castiel let Dean reach for him, he let Dean pull him close, he let Dean bury his face in his neck. “Just stay…” Dean begged. Castiel leaned against him, whispering what he hoped were reassuring words until he felt Dean’s arms relax and his soft snore begin. He slipped out of Dean’s hold and picked his coats up off of the floor before he went outside.

\-------------------------

Dean didn’t remember the dream, but he felt the shift. Castiel came back, he couldn’t stay away for very long. 

\-------------------------

Dean was restless, and they went back out on the road. They didn’t hunt anymore, it was always just demons. They’d come to rely on Castiel to show up and at times Dean wondered what would happen if he didn’t. He still stood at the edge of the shadows when he could, he still waited to feel the cool metal against his hand and the warm breath on the back of his neck.

It was gradual, it was subliminal when he found himself pressing his body against Castiel for reassurance before he stepped into the light with the blade. He found himself wrapping an arm protectively around Castiel and moving him aside while he fought. It became habit to watch out for Castiel just as he did for Sam. If they all walked away, Dean having gotten the worst of it, then it was a success in his mind. 

He started to smile, he even laughed once or twice. Sam could see his brother coming back and Castiel could see that Dean Winchester was nothing like what he’d been told.

\-------------------------

“Your friend is pretty hot,” Jo sidled up to Dean as he pulled his bag out of the car.

“Yeah, not exactly your type.”

“Is he gay?”

“I doubt it,” Dean laughed. “I’m guessing he’s not straight either.”

“So asexual?” Jo asked, glancing at Cas out of the corner of her eye.

“He’s an angel. I’m pretty sure they aren’t into that whole carnal thing. If you want to get rid of him, the quickest way would probably be to hit on him. He’s a little shy,” Dean grinned. 

“He’s seriously an angel?”

“No, he likes to strap on a pair of wings at night and get judgmental. Yes he’s an angel, Jo.”

“I guess I just expected…”

“Let me guess, white fluffy wings with a halo and a harp? Yeah, they aren’t represented so well in the media. They’re actually assholes, well most of them. Now let me past, I need to get this shit in the house.”

She pouted at Dean’s back, but couldn’t stop looking at Castiel. She didn’t realize while she was staring at those amazing blue eyes, they were trained on Dean’s back.

\-------------------------

Some nights Dean looked around and felt like the walls were closing in. As much as he cared about the people in Bobby’s house, there were too damn many of them when they were all in one room. They’d stopped giving each other questioning glances when he abruptly poured a drink and went outside. They didn’t seem to notice the nights that Castiel disappeared within minutes. 

\-------------------------

“Company?”

“If I said no, would it hurt your feelings?” Dean grinned.

“I do have feelings,” Castiel frowned.

“I know, love for humanity and the greater good and all of that shit.”

“I mean beyond that. I hear things or see things, and something inside of me changes.”

Dean looked up at the moon while they walked slowly, “That’s a slippery slope for you, you know that.”

“I do,” Castiel said quietly. “Maybe that’s why I question the greater good. I don’t see the good in it anymore, not really.”

“You did believe in it, so there has to be something there.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“I didn’t know that we were done talking about your existential crisis, but okay.”

“Why did you go to Hell?” Castiel asked quietly. “I heard Zachariah talking about it that day.”

Dean stopped walking and ran a hand down his face. “Well, I guess I have options here. I can tell you that I didn’t go to Hell, and we can keep walking, which is the direction I’m leaning. Or I can tell you that yes, I did got to Hell but I don’t want to talk about it, and we can keep walking.”

“So you won’t talk about it?”

“Let’s just keep walking.” 

“You don’t even talk to Sam about it?”

Dean stopped and turned to face Castiel, “Sam doesn’t know about it. Nobody does. God, how do you get me to admit to this shit?”

“Sam doesn’t know about your, I don’t know, your other weakness I guess. He doesn’t know that you went to Hell. How are you able to hide these things from him?”

“I’m a good fucking liar, that’s how.”

“So nobody knows the real you, nobody.”

“I guess not,” Dean said quietly. “And I’ve been hoping to keep it that way.” He took a few steps back and leaned against the wall of one of Bobby’s garages. “So which part are you the most interested in? Dean’s innermost secrets? Or what it’s like down there?”

“It just doesn’t make sense to me. Zachariah said 40 years. How could nobody know?”

“I don’t know how time works in Heaven, but 40 years downstairs was actually four months up here. It isn’t hard to disappear for a few months.”

“But why?”

“I traded my soul for someone’s life. Somebody who deserved to live, and no I’m not going to tell you who it was. So, they got their life back and I got one year to live.” He took a deep breath, he had no idea why he was telling Castiel this. “The year was up and I honestly didn’t really believe that the hell hounds would come, but they did. Their teeth, their claws, they ripped me to fucking shreds. I felt all of it. But that, it was nothing compared to what they did to me when I got downstairs. That rack, my shoulders never did get used to it. The things that they did to me physically, it was unbearable man. The slicing and the cutting. The constant smell of burning flesh and the screams, god the screaming never fucking stopped. I could hear women and children. Children, that part fucked me up. After a while, this demon Alastair, snarky bastard, he made me an offer. He told me that he’d take me off the rack. No more pain, I could tune out the screams,” Dean’s voice shuddered. “But there was a price. I would have to stand by his side and put souls on the rack. I would have to sell my soul for a second time. I kept telling him no, and he kept slicing away at me. Every time I told him no he’d find new ways to make me feel pain, things that you can’t even imagine. But that day came,” Dean slid down the wall and dropped his head. “I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t fucking take anymore and I climbed off that rack. I didn’t say a word, I just went to work. I caused more pain than I’d suffered. I was good at it, I was too good at it,” he started to softly cry. “The worst part about it, was the pride I felt. I wanted to be good at it. I wanted to be the best. I found some sick satisfaction in what I was doing. I became a fucking monster, and I didn’t care. I don’t know that I’ve changed that much since I’ve been back. I was broken in ways that can never be fixed.” Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes.. Castiel knelt in front of him, unsure of what to do. “Did he know?” he asked softly. Dean dropped his head, tears streaming down his face. Their gazes locked and Dean stood up abruptly. “He was the only thing that could save me,” he whispered before he started to walk away. Castiel’s grip on his wrist wasn’t tight, but he stopped anyway. He closed his eyes and tried to forget when he turned and felt the strong arms wrap around him. He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s waist and leaned his forehead against his shoulder. Out of habit he slid his hands up the back of Castiel’s shirt, his cold hands moving across warm skin, pulling their bodies closer while he cried. Castiel didn’t pull away, he held their bodies together and whispered soft words against Dean’s ear. Dean lifted his head and Castiel cradled his face, running his thumbs across Dean’s cheeks, the same way that Dean used to touch Cas. He started to lean in before he let go and stepped back. “I’ve done a lot of fucked up things, and I’ve ruined a lot of lives, I know that. I’m not adding you to that list, I can’t do this.” Castiel watched him walk away, further into the maze of scrap. He knew that he’d be back later to make sure that Dean was able to sleep.

\-------------------------

They never mentioned it again. If anything, the silence brought them closer. Castiel would sit and talk to Dean while he worked on his car or one of Bobby’s trucks. He would hand him cold beer out of the cooler and pretend like he understood what the different engine components were. Dean knew that he was clueless, but he tried. Dean taught him everything that he needed to know about classic rock and convinced him that he would be fine walking around Bobby’s without the trenchcoat and suit. He’d realized that this wasn’t his Cas, he never would be. His Cas raised his soul from Hell and they shared a profound bond. The angel Castiel was just an awkward guy who was lost between two worlds. This is what their friendship would have been like without the intervention of the angels, without the distraction of becoming lovers. As much as he ached to touch him and hold him, he knew that it would be Castiel’s undoing and he couldn’t put him in that position again. 

\-------------------------

It was getting dark. Bobby and Ellen had just left to go see a movie in town. Jo was supposed to be packing to leave for school in the morning. Sam was busy studying some new rare books that Bobby had. Dean was putting tools away when Jo came outside.

“Do you think that something’s going on between my mom and Bobby?”

“Uh, that’s something I actually try not to think about. Especially considering that it’s really none of our business.”

“Well, she’s my mom. I think I have a right to know.”

“Then you’re talking to the wrong person. Not to mention, she’s an adult, Jo. If something is going on, let it. Shit, they both deserve to be happy.”

Jo started moving towards him, slowly backing him into a corner. “Why don’t you ever flirt with me anymore, Dean?”

“Ah, so that’s the real reason you came out here. Listen Jo, we’ve had this talk before…”

“And it was always because my mama threatened you with a shotgun if you touched me. My mama’s not here, and she won’t be for a couple of hours.”

“Sam’s in the house.”

“You have a big backseat in your car,” she whispered in his ear, rubbing her body against his. He opened his mouth to talk, but she cut him off with a kiss. It had been so long since he’d felt anybody’s lips, so for a moment he kissed her back. It felt wrong, everything about it felt wrong. He turned his head and she leaned in closer, sliding her hands up his shirt to rake her nails across his chest while she kissed his neck. He needed to push her away gently, find a way to tell her no that wouldn’t leave her with mascara running down her cheeks. He felt her hand reach between them and cup his crotch. He was still limp. He could feel her disappointment and embarrassment. “You can’t even…”

“Jo, it’s not you. You are a beautiful girl. You know that I would have tried a long time ago if I thought that I could get away with it.”

“So you’re going to give me the whole it’s not you it’s me talk?” she whimpered.

“Basically, yes. It is me. I’m kind of...celibate these days.”

“Dean Winchester? The guy who either fucked or tried to fuck most of the women who came through The Roadhouse is trying to tell me that he’s celibate?”

“I’m not the same guy I used to be, Jo. A lot of shit has changed.”

“Yeah right,” she cried softly. “Deciding to be celibate and not being able to get it up for me are two different things.”

“Listen, Jo look at me. It is seriously not you. It has absolutely nothing to do with you. This is embarrassing, for both of us. Let’s just forget it happened. You go back into the house and finish packing and I’ll be in later.” He hugged her and pressed his lips against her forehead, feeling like a total asshole. At one point in time, he would have risked Ellen’s aim with a shotgun to get Jo in his backseat. He was telling her the truth, it had absolutely nothing to do with her and everything to do with him. His head wasn’t in the right place for it, and he didn’t need to complicate things at Bobby’s. He was starting to think that it was time to go back on the road for a couple of weeks.

\-------------------------

He was wandering around the lot, putting things away and checking the sheds, waiting for the lights in the house to go out. He’d nodded a hello at Bobby and Ellen when they got back, but hadn’t gone in the house. He didn’t want to face Jo and was hoping that they would leave early enough that he could pretend to sleep right through it. 

“Company?”

“Meh, why not. I have some time to kill before I can go inside.”

“Before you can go inside?” Castiel looked confused.

“Uh yeah, embarrassing situation with Jo in the garage and I’m pretty sure that she doesn’t want to see me right now. So, I’m being a total pussy and hiding from her.”

“Embarrassing situation?”

“She uh, tried to...you know…”

“Sex?”

“Yeah. It didn’t work out so well.”

“She got upset when you turned her down?”

“That’s the embarrassing part, I didn’t have to turn her down. My body wasn’t exactly feeling...cooperative. Why do I tell you this shit?”

“Because I don’t judge you.”

“Isn’t that kind of your thing? Judgment?”

“It’s their thing, not mine. I’m not like them, you know that.”

“Yeah, I know,” Dean groaned. “Maybe I need to get laid. It would probably put me in a better mood.”

“How long has it been?”

“Do you even have a filter?” Dean just shook his head.

“You don’t have to answer me, Dean.”

“It was him,” Dean said softly. “He was the last one.”

“And you haven’t thought about it since?”

“That is a loaded question, and one that I am definitely not going to answer.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” Cas slowed down.

“Good,” Dean called as he kept walking.

“Why did you stop yourself that night? The night that we talked about…”

Dean stopped walking, but didn’t turn around. “I know what night you mean. It’s a two-fold thing. First, you’re an angel. You are naive as hell and maybe you’re curious, who knows, but I’m not going to take advantage of that. Second, you’re an angel. The quickest way to piss your family off is to mess around with a human, especially a Winchester.”

“Maybe I am naive, maybe I am curious, and maybe I don’t care if you’re a Winchester.”

“You are naive, Castiel. If you’re curious, I can’t help you. And maybe you don’t care if I’m a Winchester, but there are a whole lot of assholes up there who would disagree with you. I need you to be my friend. I can’t complicate things, I can’t fuck it up this time.”

“This time?”

“I can’t fuck this up. This is a road that I can’t go down, even if I wanted to.”

“He was an angel, wasn’t he?” Dean heard as he walked away without turning around. Cas had heard too much. He was getting too close to the truth and Dean needed to do everything that he could to keep him from finding out.

\-------------------------

Dean needed to leave, he needed to get away from Bobby’s. They hadn’t seen Castiel in a couple of days and Dean didn’t know how to explain it. He didn’t know if he’d somehow hurt Castiel’s feelings. It didn’t matter what he said, he knew that Castiel had feelings and may be starting to have feelings that he shouldn’t have. Maybe Castiel had taken what he said seriously and decided to stay away. There was no way of knowing, and he wasn’t about to try and explain it to anybody. Sam was nervous when they hit the road, but if they had to go back to exorcisms, then so be it. Like Dean said, they weren’t accomplishing anything sitting on their asses at Bobby’s. 

They hit a few small towns and accomplished nothing more than a half a dozen exorcisms. It was frustrating and slow, but Dean was focused. 

They stopped in a larger town and exorcised a few in a warehouse, but left with some still on their heels. It seemed pointless and daunting, but they felt obligated to do what they could. Dean silently drove to the nearest restaurant, hoping nobody would notice the few cuts and bruises. They just wanted to eat and get back to the motel for a shower and some sleep. They barely spoke as they ate, both were feeling tired and defeated. 

Dean didn’t hear the shuffling when they walked to the car and he reached for his keys. It wasn’t until he was hit from behind that he realized they’d been followed. He’d parked in a dark corner of the lot, not thinking about how it could leave them vulnerable. He started swinging, his fists connecting with skin and bone. At 6’4” Sam was easy to spot, even in the dim light. He needed to make sure that Sam stayed standing. He needed to keep Sam alive. His knuckles were covered in blood, he didn’t know if it was his own or not. He felt hand grip his shoulders and what had to be a knee slam into his chest. He couldn’t breathe when he was knocked down. He tried screaming for Sam, but everything went black when he felt the boot against the back of his head.

Sam watched Dean go down and tried to get to him. There had to be at least six, probably more, demons coming at them, and they were unarmed. He felt his shoulder pop out of joint before sliding back in and his lip split, but he did what he could to stay standing. He finally made his way to Dean and tried to help him up, but he wasn’t moving. “Throw his arm around your shoulder and drag him to the car. Grab the keys out of his pocket and go,” the familiar gravely voice said quietly in his ear. “I’ll keep them away from you until you can get out of here.”

“We can’t leave you…”

“Sam, you need to go.”

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, hearing the grunts and sounds of punches being thrown. He waited for the flashing lights of the angel blade, but didn’t see any. He got Dean into the backseat of the car and pulled out of the parking lot, headed toward the motel.

\-------------------------

Cas was leaning against the wall next to their room when Sam pulled up. He was bloody and bruised. Sam nodded for him to help get Dean out of the car. He still hadn’t regained consciousness. They got into the room and laid him on the bed. Cas touched his forehead, his face, his stomach and ribs. He healed the broken bones, bruises, and cuts. He healed Sam and went in the bathroom to clean himself up.

“Why is he still out?” Sam asked.

“He has a concussion. I don’t know that I can heal that completely. He’s fine, but he may need to just sleep it off,” Cas sank wearily into a chair.

“So, no angel blade?”

“I have one with me if that’s what you’re asking. I figured that a parking lot outside of a restaurant wasn’t an appropriate place to have demon’s souls flashing and shrieking as they die.”

“So you took all of them on by yourself?” Sam asked incredulously.

“I told you Sam, I’m here to keep you alive.”

“Cas the badass,” Dean mumbled from the bed. “You seriously went hand to hand combat on those fuckers?”

“I did what I had to to.”

“Dean, where’s the bottle?”

“The what?” Dean asked, slowly sitting up.

“Uh glass bottle full of alcohol?”

“Gone. I drank the rest of it last night. I planned to stop and get a new one, but apparently some asshole demons had other plans for me.”

“I need a drink. I’m taking your car.”

“If anything happens to her, I will hurt you,” Dean called as Sam walked out, pulling the door closed behind him.

“That’s probably the most ‘Dean’ thing that he has ever done. Taken a beating and gone looking for liquor.” Dean tried to laugh, but he couldn’t. He’d gone down and lost sight of Sam. He could have lost Sam completely.

He was trembling when he sat up on the edge of the bed. They had been in fights before, but he’d never blindly trusted anybody to save his life. Not like he was learning to trust Castiel. His head turned when he heard the subtle sound, Castiel’s coats dropped to the floor, it was a living memory. Dean felt raw and couldn’t stop the tears when Castiel stood between his legs and unknotted his tie before pulling Dean’s head against his stomach. He was aching to feel the taut body, to take in the scent of Castiel’s skin. His fingertips and mouth knew every inch. His eyes closed and instinct took over as he untucked the cheap shirt, running his hands across the smooth flesh. The tears were fresh when he fumbled with the buttons, just as he had that first night with Cas. He heard the sharp intake of breath and felt Castiel’s body arch when his full lips ran across the ridges of muscle. His mouth was greedy, kissing and sucking, pulling Castiel to him. He slid his t-shirt over his head and leaned back, again giving Castiel a choice. His body had already built a fine sheen of sweat when their chests came together. Castiel’s lips were timid, Dean’s were gentle when they kissed softly. Dean was in another place when he slowly rolled Castiel on his back and settled between his legs, deepening the kiss. The shiver was visible when their lips parted and their tongues slid together, eliciting a gentle moan from Castiel’s chest. His hands were clumsy and inexperienced when they roamed Dean’s body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Dean was painfully hard, his hand brushing Castiel’s cock when he reached to adjust himself. He was intoxicated by the musk of Castiel’s skin, his head spinning. This wasn’t a memory, this was real, and for a moment, this was his Cas, his lover, his world. Their hips rocked slowly, their lips pressed together in long and lingering kisses. Dean’s hand slid up the side of Castiel’s face, tears still sliding from the corners of his eyes. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel whispered breathlessly. “Don’t be sorry. I thought that I could stop this, but I can’t. There is no way for me to explain this to you, but please, don’t be sorry,” Dean said quietly. He slid his full lips along Castiel’s jaw and across his neck, kissing and nipping. He wanted their clothes gone, he didn’t want his little brother to be coming back any time now, he wanted to make promises that Castiel could understand. But all he had was hope that Castiel could somehow see it in his eyes, feel it under his lips and his hands, hear it in his soft moans. This moment meant everything.

It suddenly felt cold when they heard the Impala’s engine and saw the headlights through the cheap flimsy curtains. Dean climbed off of the bed and grabbed his t-shirt, retreating to the shower without saying a word. Castiel was an angel, he knew that he could have his clothes back on and his body under control before Sam could make it into the room. Dean needed a few minutes of warm water and just a couple of strokes to release the tension that had built up in his own body. He leaned back against the tile and wondered what he was doing. Why he had let that happen, knowing that he couldn’t tell Castiel ‘no’ if he tried.

\-------------------------

Sam swallowed his drink in two large gulps before he took his turn in the shower. Dean had taken a lukewarm shower and left plenty of hot water for his brother. He slowly sipped at his own drink, feeling like things should be awkward, but they weren’t.

“He was an angel,” Dean finally said softly. “When I was in the pit, Zachariah and the other higher ups realized that they needed me. Apparently Sam and I are part of this apocalyptic prophecy. He sent an angel to raise my soul from Hell. I was so angry when I came back, especially when I found out what they expected of me. The angel who raised my soul, he was on their team in the beginning. But, he discovered free will and one day he told me that he was questioning his orders. He didn’t know if he believed in the greater good anymore. We fought, we fought a lot. He turned his back on his family for me. I turned my back and sent him home. We never wanted the same thing at the same time, and I didn’t really know how I felt until he came to say goodbye for the last time. I finally believed him. He convinced me that this wasn’t just another argument, he was leaving. That’s when I knew. We touched that night for the first time, and that’s when he knew. He didn’t leave my side after that. He knew how broken I was, what I went through in Hell, things about my childhood. He knew every ugly thing about me, but I never saw those things when he looked at me. He saw things that I still don’t believe exist inside of me, but he did. He became my entire world, I couldn’t live without him. I was happy, happier than I’d ever been that night when I fell asleep with my arms around him,” Dean’s voice cracked. “I woke up and I could feel his fingers digging into my arms. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t talk, he could barely breathe. It scared the shit out of me. But then he was just gone. His things were still in the room. Hell, I could still see the indent from his head on the pillow, but he was gone. I knew I wouldn’t find him when I looked outside, but I had to try. That’s when Zachariah showed up.”

“Zachariah showed up just to take him?” Castiel’s voice quivered.

“He had an agenda, he always does. He wanted to play a game. He said if I followed his rules, then things would go back to the way they were. I had choices to make. I made ones that I believed were right, but he didn’t agree with me, so I had to say goodbye forever,” Dean finished softly.

“But he’s alive?”

“He’s alive.”

“And Zachariah has been able to keep you apart.”

“Zachariah has been able to do whatever in the fuck he wants. He’s done nothing but toy with me, and he won’t stop. That’s why I didn’t want to involve you. I’m toxic. You get close to me, bad things happen.”

“What’s his name?” Castiel whispered.

“That, I’m not going to tell you. I don’t need to know if you know him. I don’t need you asking questions. I just need to let him go. I really thought that I had.”

“Until tonight.”

“Listen, that’s not your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. I should have stopped it, but I didn’t know how. That’s on me.”

They heard the water turn off and Dean wiped his face quickly, finishing his drink and pouring another. He turned and locked eyes with Castiel, what he saw brought more tears to his eyes and he tried to smile before he looked away. 

\-------------------------

He wasn’t surprised when he felt his mattress dip after Sam finally fell asleep. There was something comforting about Castiel coming to him. He kept telling himself that he shouldn’t let him, that he needed to tell him that this couldn’t be happening, but instead he pulled the angel into his arms. They quietly kissed and touched, and other than unbuttoning Castiel’s shirt, they kept their clothes on. Dean finally fell asleep with Castiel’s head on his chest, knowing that he would be gone before Sam woke up.

\-------------------------

Nothing felt normal, but everything felt right. After the fight in the parking lot, the boys agreed to go back to Bobby’s for awhile. Even with Castiel and the angel blade, they needed to do more than random take down’s in random cities. They needed to come up with a plan, and if you wanted a plan you went to Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer. 

Ellen made dinner most nights, and the way that Bobby’s eyes followed her around the kitchen didn’t go unnoticed. Bobby made breakfast, and the smile on Ellen’s face didn’t go unnoticed. They rarely invited the boys to movies, always using the excuse that there was nothing showing that they would be interested in. Dean thought about asking Sam if he heard footsteps moving down the hallway in the middle of the night while one of them snuck into the other’s room, but he didn’t. Bobby was like a father to him, and he’d grown to love Ellen like a mother figure. Their life was none of his business. He just knew that they’d both been alone for too long and if anybody could put up with Bobby, it would be Ellen.

Dean tried again to teach Castiel about cars, this time laughing every time his tie fell into the engine or his shirt ended up covered in grease. The first time he borrowed an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Dean almost couldn’t take his eyes off of him. His Cas had always worn that cheap suit and trenchcoat. This angel, he looked almost naked in Dean’s eyes. He could see the definition in his arms, the dip in his lower back and the firmness of his ass. He almost shivered when he would lean over or lift his arms, showing that small strip of skin just above his waistline. Castiel, he wasn’t Cas. He wasn’t better or worse, he was just different and Dean was just as fascinated as he had been years ago. There weren’t the dramatic fights or arguments, just playful banter and a lot of name calling. Cas would never have called him an asshole with a grin that carried to his eyes. Cas never would have reached out to gently punch him and tell him to shut the fuck up. Cas never really learned to understand innuendo and wink when it was directed at him. Some days Dean felt like he was somehow betraying Cas by feeling the things that he felt for Castiel. 

Castiel crawled onto the couch with him most nights, but Dean never let things go further than just taking their shirts off. He could sense Castiel’s frustration, and he had plenty of his own. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t bring himself to make love to a body that he was so familiar with when he still had questions about whether or not Castiel would be part of his life. 

Sam stood on the outside looking in, not surprised by Ellen and Bobby, but surprised by his brother. After months of doubt and mistrust, it was clear that Dean had become attached. Sam didn’t know what type of path his brother was traveling. He would be ready to pull him aside, ask him about it, but then he’d hear the laughter and see the smiles and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Dean looked happy, and that’s all he wanted for his brother.

\-------------------------

Castiel would lay in Dean’s arms for hours, fingers trailing down his chest while he listened. He learned the details of Mary Winchester’s death. He learned how John Winchester had raised his sons. He learned about Sam leaving the life to go to college. He learned about all of the resentment and guilt. He tried to explain to Dean that when Sam made the decision to leave Stanford and come back to the hunt, it was Sam’s decision. Sam couldn’t see a life after his girlfriend, Jess, was killed by a demon. School would have been a constant reminder. He explained to Dean that there was more to him than just a dirt bag hunter. They talked about the sacrifices he made, never bringing up his time in Hell. They talked about the respect and loved he showed Bobby and Ellen, the way that he watched out for Sam. Dean saw things in Castiel’s eyes that he had seen before, and it hurt. But he saw things that he’d never seen before. He saw a humanity that had never really been there. The angels hadn’t wasted their time on turning Castiel against him, they had just left them alone. Dean was always waiting for the other shoe to fall. Every time he heard a leaf rustle in the wind he half expected to turn around and see Zachariah. He knew that they still had time before the prophecy would come to pass. He knew that this was just a waiting game. Zachariah wanted Dean to become attached to this angel so that he could take him away. Castiel was becoming his weakness.

\-------------------------

Sam had become frustrated. The only information he could find were nothing but myths and lore. He knew that he wasn’t going to find a comprehensive guide on how to deal with demons, but he needed to keep looking. He would leave for days at a time, visiting universities and churches, looking for any useful information. A few nights a week, Ellen and Bobby would go to the movies. That left Castiel and Dean alone.

\------------------------

Castiel moaned and arched under Dean’s hands and mouth. Dean moved his lips across Castiel’s chest, pulling a nipple into his mouth to suck and softly bite. He knew the reaction he would get and smiled when he felt the groan. His calloused hands slid smoothly up Castiel’s sides, his mouth slid down his stomach. He dropped light kisses along the waistband of Castiel’s jeans, slipping his tongue inside, grazing the head of his cock. He shivered at the contact. He wanted to touch him and taste him. He wanted to feel himself inside of him, but he still couldn’t do it. Castiel reached for him, but Dean gently pushed his hands away, understanding the frustration. He felt it himself, but he was the one causing it. He crawled up, holding their bodies together and catching Castiel in a deep kiss. The fingers digging into his back and squeezing his ass were distracting and made him want to reconsider. He didn’t know if it was a good idea, or a bad idea when he rolled off of the couch and walked into the kitchen. Castiel was sitting up when he came back and Dean laid on the couch with his legs wrapped around Castiel. “No touching,” he whispered when he turned on the lamp, laid the dishtowel across his stomach, and slowly unbuttoned his jeans. It was the first time that Castiel had seen his cock, and he gripped Dean’s thighs when he watched him wrap his hand around it and start slowly stroking. Their gazes met and Dean smiled slowly. The fact that somebody was watching him touch himself made his cock throb in his hand and he knew that he wasn’t going to last long. He slowly squeezed and stroked the silky skin, sliding his hand over the head. Castiel was breathing heavily, transfixed by Dean’s hand. Dean could feel it building in his stomach and moved his hand faster, crying out when he came, the sticky fluid dripping between his fingers and onto the dishtowel. He gently touched himself until he became limp in his own hand and was too sensitive to touch. He tucked himself back into his pants and wiped his hand before dropping the towel on the floor. “That was not fair,” Castiel moaned quietly. Dean tucked his hands behind his head and smiled, “Why wasn’t it fair? I played by the rules.” Castiel crawled up his body and pressed their lips together, Dean could feel how hard he was. He knew that he was painfully hard, pressing against his zipper. He was surprised, but let a slow smile cross his face when Castiel wrapped his fingers around his wrist and pulled his hand between them. “Through your pants?” he whispered. “I don’t care,” Castiel moaned. Dean ran his palm up and down the length of his cock, knowing that his wasn’t as much about pleasure as it was about need. He squeezed as his moved his hand, deftly undoing the top button when he heard the panting. He reached for the dishtowel and held it between their bodies while Castiel came with a loud groan. He was breathing heavily, resting his forehead on Dean’s shoulder while Dean cleaned him up and fixed his pants. “That was…” he whispered. “Wait,” Dean said, pulling himself up on his elbows. “Was that the first time that you…” Castiel just nodded against his shoulder. “So you’ve never like, done that yourself?” Castiel sat up and wiped the beads of sweat off of his forehead. “I’ve never had to. I’m an angel, I can usually make it just go away.” Dean didn’t realize that Castiel had never actually come before, and he wondered if he’d just made a huge mistake. “Don’t worry, this doesn’t change anything,” Castiel said quietly. “Other than my level of frustration when I have to keep my pants on.” Dean smiled and pulled him in for a kiss. They saw the headlights of the truck, “perfect timing,” Dean whispered, shoving the dishtowel in the bottom of his bag to be washed later. By the time Ellen and Bobby made it into the house they were sitting on opposite ends of the couch watching a movie, Dean already starting to doze off.

\-------------------------

“What do you mean by lure them?”

“Think about it, Dean. Normally we show up looking for them. They know who we are and they’d all love to be the one who got a Winchester. We check all of the data and we find a place where there is an obvious concentration of them. We blow into town and hang out for a couple of days, make sure that they know we’re there. Having an angel with us definitely helps. I mean it’s going to be a hell of a fight, but instead of two or three we could have as many as a dozen, probably more. We draw a couple of devil’s traps to step into when we need them, I’ll do the exorcism thing, you use the blade, and we all know that Castiel is pretty much a badass with his fists,” Sam smiled. “It’s about quantity. The larger the group, the tougher the fight. But, the larger the group, the less fights we’re going to have to start.”

Dean shook his head at his brother. It made sense. It sounded ridiculous and dangerous, but it made sense. “Okay, so where do we go?”

“There’s a town in Arkansas that seems to have some weird stuff going on. We could get there in a couple of days, easily, and then just spend some time making sure our presence is noticed. If it doesn’t work, we’ll come up with something different, but this is the best that I’ve got right now.”

“Fine, we’ll hit the road tomorrow.”

\-------------------------

Dean hadn’t felt that inherent restlessness that seemed to follow him, he wasn’t excited about a fight. Castiel seemed more quiet than usual, but Dean knew it’s because he felt responsible for keeping them all alive. Sam didn’t say much, but Dean figured he was too busy thinking about the logistics and how his plan was going to work. They checked into the cheap motel late and immediately pulled their shoes off and crawled into bed. Dean was so tired he barely felt Castiel slide under the covers. He pulled him close and pressed his lips to the back of his neck, smiling when he felt Castiel’s fingers wrap around his arms.

\-------------------------

They spent a couple of days wandering around town, stopping at diners and going to movies. The locals gave them strange looks, it wasn’t exactly a town you stopped in unless you needed to rest your head for a night or fill your gas tank. That reaction was exactly what Sam wanted. They eventually found an old barn and quickly painted devils traps on the walls and ceiling. Then they sat and waited. Dean was already bored and whistling, hoping to get some attention. Sam was annoyed by his brother, but making noise in his own right. Castiel was standing in the shadows. The demons knew their M.O. by now, but they didn’t know where in the shadows he would be. They finally started showing up and like Sam said, it was a large group. Castiel kissed Dean on the back of the neck before handing him the blade and they got to work. 

It was brutal. Dean kept one eye on his brother and one eye on the angel while trying to keep himself alive. He knew that he had broken ribs, there was something wrong with his ankle, and he could feel blood running into his eyes. Sam stayed in the devil’s trap and was relatively unharmed, but Castiel took a beating. It felt like hours before Dean finally dropped to his knees and let go of the blade. “Okay, so your plan worked, but that fucking sucked,” he gasped. Castiel didn’t even wait until they got back to the motel to heal them, he could see that Dean could barely walk. They got take-out instead of stopping to eat and Sam gave the first shower to Dean. He was pulling a clean t-shirt over his head when he felt the arms snake around him from behind. 

“That was rough,” Castiel whispered. 

Dean pulled his hand to his lips, pressing them against every knuckle. “Yeah, I still can’t decide if it was a good idea or a bad idea. Either way, it worked.” He turned around and they searched each other’s faces. “And thanks to you, this handsome face doesn’t have any cuts and bruises," Dean tried to smile. He leaned in for a kiss, pulling away when he heard the shower turn off. “My bed, tonight, wait until the tall one starts mumbling,” he whispered, smacking Castiel on the ass before Sam made it out of the bathroom.

\-------------------------

“Hey, can we talk?” Castiel whispered. “Sure,” Dean murmured with his face buried in Castiel’s neck. “I don’t mean whispering while Sam sleeps a few feet away, I mean talk.” Dean groaned inwardly. Castiel may be an angel, but he was human enough that Dean knew there was the chance they would end up having ‘the talk’. What’s going on with us? Where do we stand? The only reason he never had that talk with Cas was because Sam showed up unexpectedly one night and found them together. He sat up quietly, pulled on his boots, grabbed a jacket, and silently followed Castiel outside. 

\-------------------------

“They called me back up,” Castiel said quietly

Dean just turned away and rubbed his forehead, this was not what he was expecting. “When?”

“A couple of days ago. I didn’t want to say anything until after we were done here.”

“Zachariah strikes again.”

“I don’t have to go. I’ve shown free will, I can disregard my orders.”

“That’s not an option.”

“What do you mean?” Castiel cried softly.

“If you stay, they will never leave us alone, they will never leave you alone. This isn’t about you, it’s about me.”

“You?”

“Fuck!” Dean yelled. “I did it again, and I knew it was happening. I shouldn’t have let it, I should have stayed away. I’m so fucking sorry,” Dean’s voice broke. “It may not be pretty when you get up there, but you need to go and you need to forget about me,” Dean looked at him, his eyes more intense than Castiel had ever seen them.

“Forget about you? Dean…”

“I’m serious, Castiel. I don’t know what they’ll do to you. Maybe nothing, he’s trying to hurt me, not you.”

“So you want me to go?”

“The last thing I want is for you to go, but this isn’t a fucking choice. I get attached and he takes away. That’s how this thing works. I should have known better, it just felt too much like…"

“Like what, Dean?”

“Nothing,” 

“So I need to leave here,” Castiel cried. “I need to leave you and everything that has happened behind?”

“Yes, and you need to stay gone. No trying to find me or watching me. After tonight, Dean Winchester never existed to you.”

Castiel reached out and pulled Dean into his arms, their bodies shaking. “So sleep with me,” he said quietly.

“What?” Dean leaned back.

“I don’t know why you haven’t or what you’ve been waiting for, but if we’re never going to see each other again, sleep with me.”

Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck and rested his cheek against his dark hair. He’d lost Cas, and didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. This time he could. Maybe this time he could say his final goodbye to both of them, the same angel, but different in so many ways. “Okay,” he whispered. “Let me grab my…”

“I already have your wallet. Call me an optimist.”

They walked hand in hand to the front desk, Dean’s memory so clear but the circumstances so different. Castiel needed him before he could say goodbye. Again, he unlocked the door and swung it open to let Castiel into the room ahead of him, but this time they weren’t nervous.

\-------------------------

Their mouths came together as they stood in the middle of the room, already pulling, unbuttoning, and unzipping until their clothes laid in piles on the floor. Castiel fell back onto the bed, pulling Dean with him, gasping when he finally felt their bodies touch. Dean let go of everything, he knew that this was Castiel’s first time and he couldn’t compare him to Cas. They kissed deeply while he settled between Castiel’s legs, eliciting another gasp when he rocked his hips, his warm skin moving across Castiel’s cock. His full lips ran along Castiel’s jaw and down his neck, working down his chest to pull a sensitive nipple between his teeth. They trailed softly along the subtle ridges of muscle that crossed his stomach before he wrapped his fingers around Castiel’s cock and swirled his tongue around the head. Castiel groaned and arched his body. Dean had never touched him like this, nobody had ever touched him like this. Dean took him into his mouth, running his tongue along his shaft as he dipped his head up and down. The sounds, the taste, the scent of musky skin was so familiar. He felt the throbbing and moved back up Castiel’s body. He couldn’t let him come like this, not this soon. He needed to be inside of him. “I need to feel you,” Castiel whispered, tilting his head back, giving Dean access to the soft skin on his throat. “I want that too, but we don’t have…” Castiel cut him off. “Jacket pocket...I’m an optimist.” Dean reached for the small bottle and knelt between Castiel’s legs, sliding pillows under his hips. “This is going to hurt,” he said quietly, dripping lube on his fingers. He felt Castiel’s body tense as he moved the first finger in and out, he knew how to touch him and knew that the second finger would only hurt for a moment. He could find the spot, the spot that would make his eyes close and make the pain worth it. He finally lined up his slick cock and buried himself, feeling the tears well up. He just had to tilt his hips and move slightly to bring a deep moan, he knew that. He rocked slowly, pressing their chests together, trapping Castiel’s cock between their sweat slicked bodies. He held Castiel in a deep kiss, one hand pressed against his cheek. He couldn’t stop the tears as they kissed and touched, Castiel moaning with each thrust, rocking his hips against Dean. Dean shivered when the warm hands slid down his back, thighs sliding against his hips. Dean felt the throbbing and Castiel’s legs spread wide, needing him to move faster. He was right there, he could feel it. He wanted to watch those blue eyes when he came, but he couldn’t see through the tears, this truly was goodbye. He felt Castiel’s body tense and heard his name echo off of the walls as he thrust one final time and came hard, letting his body sink against the strong arms that wrapped around him. He buried his face, not ashamed of his tears but afraid of ruining this. He felt Castiel’s body trembling beneath his own and knew that he was feeling the same thing. He finally pulled himself up on his elbows and let Castiel reach out and wipe his tears away. “I know, Dean. Me too,” he whispered. 

\-------------------------

Their hands were slow in the shower and the water turned cold too soon. They crawled back under the blankets and wrapped their arms around each other. Dean was tired, he was exhausted, but he refused to sleep. He ran his mouth and hands over every inch of a body that he’d loved so much. When he felt that Castiel was ready again, he took him into his mouth, licking and sucking while he slid his head up and down. He heard the cry and swallowed the sticky come. He wanted Castiel to feel as much as he could in the short time they had together. It was bittersweet when he rolled on his side and pulled their bodies together, pressing his lips against the back of Castiel’s neck. A part of him was waiting to feel him being taken from his arms. The tears started again when he buried his face in the dark hair and took in the scent of raw sex and cheap motel soap. “Castiel?” he whispered, his voice shaking. “Yeah?” Dean took a deep breath, this is something that he should have said a long time ago, a lifetime ago. “I love you. Maybe you don’t understand what that means,” his voice cracked, “but no matter what happens, just know that I love you. I always have, I know that I always will.” He pulled their bodies closer and just let the tears come. “Maybe I don’t really understand, but if you feel the same things that I feel when we are together, I love you too.”

Dean held him until sunlight was shining through the window. He crawled out of bed and got dressed slowly. “Just stay there,” he said quietly. “I want to remember how you looked after we spent the night together.” He bent down and kissed Castiel slowly and softly. “Goodbye,” he whispered, pressing his lips to the top of his head. “I love you.”

He pulled the door closed behind him and ran his hands down his face. He got in his car and went to get coffee and donuts. Sam may not question his disappearance if he showed up with breakfast.

\-------------------------

“So, do I want to know?” Sam asked, taking the cup of coffee from Dean.

“My guess is you’re dying to know. Castiel is gone. They called him back upstairs.”

Now Sam knew why Dean’s bed had been empty when he woke up. “Well, he must have packed light. He left something here for you.”

Dean turned around and saw the angel blade resting against the wall. He lifted his head and looked at Sam.

“You okay?” 

“No Sammy, I’m not okay. But, I’m not going to talk about it either. He’s gone, we have to accept it. Let’s just get packed up and back to Bobby’s.”

\-------------------------

Dean explained that Castiel had been called back upstairs, and then Dean became quiet. He was withdrawn and spent more time wandering around outside than he did in the house with his family. He’d put the angel blade in the trunk of the car and left it there. 

Ellen had finally been able to convince the insurance company that it was faulty wiring that caused the fire at The Roadhouse, and construction was almost done. Her and Bobby drove out there every week or so to check on it.

Jo came home from school for the summer and other than a hug, she left Dean alone. Sam just told her that Dean had a lot on his mind and she seemed satisfied with that.

They hadn’t gone looking for demons in weeks. Dean needed to grieve, and he needed to try and do it without fights or alcohol. He needed to let go, he needed to let go of the two men that he loved.

\-------------------------

Jo and Ellen had left days earlier to open The Roadhouse. Bobby and the boys stayed behind until they were ready to start serving customers. Castiel had been gone for awhile and although Dean still had his quiet moments, he talked more and even laughed at some of Sam’s stupid jokes. 

They finally pulled into the overflowing parking lot and saw that life at The Roadhouse was in full swing. They started to move through the crowd, stopping to exchange handshakes or pats on the back with other hunters. Sam, at 6’4”, was easy to spot and it didn’t take long for Jo to work her way through the crowd and wrap her arms around him before hugging Dean and Bobby. She dragged them to the bar and forced them to sit down on the new stools. Ellen came around and hugged them all, holding on to Bobby for a little longer than the boys. The brothers looked at each other and then Jo before they all shrugged and smiled. Somehow, Ellen and Bobby made sense. They drank and talked until they finally heard the loud voice, “Winchesters!” They all turned and with a chuckle Dean hugged Ash and passed him off to Sam. It was almost impossible not to smile or laugh when Ash was around. This was the best that Dean had felt in a long time. Everybody that he loved, everybody who mattered to him was under one roof and smiling. 

\-------------------------

Jo tried to talk each of the guys out onto the dance floor at least once, Dean insisted he’d only dance if he could slow dance with Ellen. 

“I’m not trying to get into your business, but I’m just going to say that Bobby is a hell of a guy,” he said into her ear.

“You are getting into my business, Dean Winchester. But, you don’t have to sell me. I’ve grown fond of that man.”

Dean grinned, “He’s a huge pain in the ass, but pretty easy to grow fond of. So uh, are you planning on staying at The Roadhouse?”

“Now you’re really getting into my business. We’ve been talking about Ash taking over the apartment in the back. He’s here all the damn time anyway. It’s not set in stone so don’t go running your mouth.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

He hugged her close when they finished their dance and the group slowly watched The Roadhouse clear out. 

Jo finally turned the neon lights off and turned the sign to closed before they all sat around a table for a last drink. 

“So uh, there’s really no comfortable time to bring up something like this but I feel like I need to come clean,” Sam said, looking at the table. “All of those times that I went to the university to study up on demons, I was going to the university, but I wasn’t exactly studying up on demons.”

Dean looked up at his brother, taking in the red cheeks and lack of eye contact. He knew. “So what were you studying, Sammy?” he chuckled. 

“Dean…”

“Anatomy maybe?”

“Dean…”

“Okay, I’ll stop,” Dean laughed. “At least she picked the Winchester that you trust,” he grinned at Ellen, pulling the beer bottle to his lips.

“Wait,” Ellen said, looking from Jo to Sam and back at Jo. “You two are…”

“It just kinda happened mama. You always said that you’d go after Dean with a shotgun, you never said a word about Sam.”

“I didn’t want you to be a part of this life, Joanna Beth.”

“I’m not. I’m in school and he’s helping me finish. I don’t want to hunt anymore, but I can’t get away from the life. Not really. Daddy was a hunter, Bobby was a hunter, it’s always going to be there.”

“Wait, what does Bobby have to do with any of this?” Ash finally asked. Dean had to drop his head to hide the laughter.

“You haven’t figured it out? My mama and Bobby. I figured that she’d already handed you the keys to the apartment.”

“The apartment?” Ash smiled. “Woo hoo!”

“Now it ain’t set in stone, so don’t go getting all excited,” Bobby grumbled.

“Sounds pretty set in stone to me,” Dean said, still trying to hold in the laughter.

“Wait, if Ellen and Bobby are together, and Sam is dating Jo…”

“Dude, you are so not my type,” Dean grinned at Ash.

“Not even since my hair grew back?” Ash flipped his hand through his infamous mullet and smiled.

“That makes it a little more tempting, but I’m still going to have to say no. I’ll stick to bachelorhood.” 

“Your loss,” Ash smiled. “I’m thinking that for some reason we need something fancy like champagne or wine or something.”

Dean looked at everybody’s red faces, watched Sam wrap his arm around Jo’s shoulders and kiss her temple, watched Ellen place her hand over Bobby’s and he felt it in his chest. “I’ll come help you look,” he called to Ash as he got up out of his chair.

\-------------------------

“I honestly don’t care where any of you sleep. I actually don’t want to know. But, I plan on getting a room at the motel in town by myself. So, I’m going to head out,” Dean finally said. He got his round of hugs and walked out the front doors. It didn’t take long for his voice to carry, “What in the fuck are you doing here?”

\-------------------------

They all snuck out the side door and hid in the shadows. They could see Dean standing about ten feet away from a bald man in a suit. “He looks like a fucking funeral director,” Ash whispered.

“You need to keep your damn mouth shut and stay in the shadows until we figure out what the hell is going on,” Bobby whispered back.

\----------

“Maybe I’m just here to see how you’re holding up, champ.”

“Fuck you, Zachariah. Now I was having a fairly pleasant evening and I’d hate to ruin the mood so if you’ll just fly your sanctimonious ass back upstairs I would really appreciate it.”

“Ah yes, family time. I know that Sam is here.”

“Oh, you mean 6’4” of pissed off?”

“And Bobby Singer.”

“Still a badass protected by yours truly and 6’4” of pissed off. What are you getting at?”

“You think that you have back up.”

“No, I think that this is between you and me. There’s no reason to involve my family. I still don’t even know why in the fuck you showed up. You got what you wanted.”

“No Dean, I still haven’t gotten what I wanted.”

“How many times do I have to tell you that bullshit is never going to happen. Go ahead, keep fucking with me, but we’ll never agree to it.”

“You know,” Zachariah started pacing in front of Dean. “I find it interesting that you were able to get that same little angel to fall under your spell again. I’ve said it before, you are a striking specimen. You’re obstinate and foul mouthed, but I suppose you can be charming. I wouldn’t know, but I’ve always assumed that your sexual prowess is…”

“I’m seriously starting to think that you have a thing for me. Are you living vicariously through him or something?”

\----------

“Who in the hell are they talking about?” Ellen whispered.

\----------

“Twice, Dean. That’s pretty impressive. Oh, and the sweet words you whispered that last night. You were finally able to say it. It so unfortunate that you couldn’t say it before. The whole situation must have been strange for you. Same body…”

“What exactly is it that you get out of this?”

“I just can’t wrap my head around a dirty low life hunter’s ability to seduce an angel.”

\----------

“Castiel? Is he talking about Castiel?” Sam whispered.

“Shut up, Sam.”

\----------

“You handed him to me. You sent him to save me, but I’m guessing that you never really thought about the profound bond.”

“That’s what’s funny here, Dean. There was no profound bond. He didn’t understand why he was drawn to you. He wanted to believe that he’d somehow created a bond, so I let him. It has been all you, both times.”

“No profound bond? You’re fucking kidding me, right? So all of those times that your ‘family’ fucked him over and he came running back to me was because that’s what he wanted?”

“Apparently.”

Dean chuckled, “That must really piss you off. I’m guessing that you know he came to me this time? He propositioned me. I know how you are about keeping tabs on who I sleep with, sick fuck.”

“I heard, but I didn’t watch. I told you, carnal activities are of no interest to me.”

\----------

“Carnal activities? So wait, Dean and Castiel?” Jo mumbled. “I’m confused. What does he mean by last time?”

\----------

“You still haven't told me why you’re here.”

“I just thought that you might want an update on your sweet little angel.”

“Let me guess, you wiped his memory again? Dean Winchester doesn’t exist? Not very creative.”

“Oh no, he didn’t get it so easy this time. I gave him a lot of time to make choices, just like I did with you. And just like you, he didn’t make very good ones. He does have this way of expressing free will. I’ve never seen an angel as weak and soft as he is. He’s so pliable, especially when it comes to a certain hunter,” Zachariah smirked, pointing at Dean. “Wiping his memory would be pointless. He needed to be punished this time. I’ve always liked the kid, but sometimes they require discipline.”

“I swear, if you hurt him…”

“You’ll what? Kill me? I suppose that it’s possible. I do have a missing angel blade. I can only assume that he left it behind. A very sweet gesture on his part, which unfortunately shows how corrupted he has become by humanity. Again, I blame you. I will need that blade back before I leave.”

“Not a chance in hell, asshole.”

\----------

“Okay, Dean’s going into in fight mode is this ain’t going to end well. Where’s that angel blade?” Bobby whispered.

“In the fucking trunk with the rest of the arsenal.”

“Shit!”

\----------

“I can just take it, Dean. I was hoping that we could be civilized about this.”

“Civilized? You’re fucking kidding, right?”

“I’m trying to be reasonable. I understand, you are upset because your angel is gone.”

“What have you done to him.”

“Nothing that he won’t recover from, eventually. He can always get a new vessel if his current one can’t withstand the…”

Dean started to rush Zachariah. He knew that there were lackeys waiting in the shadows, but he didn’t care. Zachariah had taken almost everything from him. He stopped and fell backwards when he saw the flashing lights and heard the shriek.

\----------

“What in the hell is that?” Bobby asked.

“No time to explain, just cover your eyes,” Sam tried to yell over the noise. 

\----------

Dean was trying to catch his breath when he propped himself up on his elbows and watched Zachariah’s vessel turn to ash. His head was pounding from where it hit the asphalt. He looked up and was frozen in place.

\-------------------------

“Wait...how did you...why are you...what in the hell…” Dean mumbled, trying to stand up. “Castiel…”

“You can call me Cas.”

“How do you…”

“That night in the shed you called me Cas. You apologized to me. I heard some of the things that Zachariah said to you, not just that night but the day at Bobby’s. They didn’t make sense at the time, but they do now. He told you that your sweet angel wouldn’t recognize you if he passed you on the street, and he was right. You didn’t like me, you didn’t want me in your life because it reminded you of the night they took something away from you. I could not figure out why you felt so strongly about not wanting me around. But I also could not figure out why I felt so strongly about keeping you alive. We never had to get to know each other, Dean. In so many ways, we already did. You knew too much about me. Cas is short for Castiel, you slipped up enough times for me to realize that.”

“But it’s different, Cas. God it feels weird to call you that again. I had to force myself not to. I called you Cas for so long, it never felt right to call you Castiel. But that Cas, we fought and we argued. He walked away and then I walked away. It was intense, and I never really knew where I stood. But now, this, it’s not really like that.”

Dean saw the tears well up in Cas’s eyes, “And that’s a bad thing?”

“No, not at all. God, I am really fucking up here. That Cas was uptight and naive. He didn’t always understand jokes, and he constantly wore that damn suit. But he was my world. He was loyal and passionate. He believed in me, and I don’t even believe in myself. This guy...you...you listen and you laugh. You’re protective. Every time I doubt myself, every time I question myself, you’re there with an answer. I see things differently because of you. You were willing to stand there for days and stare at the engine of my car. The first time you put on a pair of my jeans and a t-shirt I started to seriously sweat. And you are off the charts when it comes to being passionate. Do you have any idea how fucked up it is to feel bad because the sex was better with you than it was with him? It’s the same vessel, you’re the same angel. I see the same things in your eyes.”

“But the circumstances were different, Dean.”

\----------

“What in the hell are they talking about, I can barely hear them and what I can hear doesn’t make any sense?”

“I have no idea, Jo,” Sam whispered. “But I’m thinking that they probably need to talk about it without us here.”

“So they’re a…”

“Yeah, they are. Let’s go.”

They all quietly moved back into the The Roadhouse, leaving Cas and Dean in the parking lot.

\------------------------

“You’re right, the circumstances were different. They still are.”

“So what is it that you want?”

“I want you to change out of that damn suit, put on some of my jeans and a t-shirt, but first I really just want to hold you. I want to know that they can’t take you.”

Cas dropped the angel blade and wrapped his arms around Dean, “They can’t take me.”

“I want you, Cas. I just want you.” Dean whispered, pulling Cas to him for a long kiss.

\-------------------------

Dean acted as a human shield while Cas changed his clothes, “So when I got up there I was waiting to speak to Zachariah. I thought that he had called me back. I was eventually told that it wasn’t Zachariah, it was Gabriel.” Cas stood up and threw his suit and trenchcoat on the floor of the backseat. “Better?”

“Better than better,” Dean murmured, kissing him again.

“Gabriel questioned me for hours. Day after day he questioned me. They’ve been looking into Zachariah’s dealings and questioning his loyalties. He’s done some horrible things. He altered destiny in order to try and make the prophecy come to pass. He became drunk on power and did things that hurt not just humanity but his brethren. Gabriel said that he need to be stopped.”

“And you were hand picked for the job?”

“He handed me an angel blade and said either you or I could do it. He explained what he knew of our history, he explained what Zachariah did to alter destiny. I’m so sorry, Dean.”

“It’s okay, baby. You didn’t know,” Dean pulled Cas into his arms again and rested his chin on his shoulder. “So do you have to go back? Check in? How does this work?”

“I’ve been disowned.”

Dean pulled away and searched Cas’s eyes, “Disowned?”

“Yes, I’m not being stripped of my abilities, they would just prefer it if they didn’t see me.”

“But why would he…”

“I asked him to. I won’t meddle in their business, and they won’t meddle in mine. I’m not like them, even Gabriel can see that. I want to stay here.”

“I want you here,” Dean said softly, pressing his hand against the back of Cas’s head. “I need you here, Cas. I never told you that I loved you, not until that last night. I always regretted not saying it when we were together.”

“But we are together, and you did say it.”

“God, I love you so much. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again,” Dean said quietly, pulling Cas closer. 

“I guess it’s a good thing that one of us is an optimist.” Cas smiled.

\-------------------------

They walked towards The Roadhouse with their fingers intertwined.

“Ellen and Bobby I can see, but Sam and Jo? Really?”

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged. “It kind of makes sense. He was an all american college boy turned hunter. She’s in school, but her dad was a hunter. She understands the life and he has somebody to talk to about nerdy shit now.”

“Well, she’s probably gotten over the whole situation with you at Bobby’s,” Cas grinned.

“I’m not sure how much they heard, so I have no idea what kind of questions we’re going to get, but I’m guessing they have all figured out why a woman might not really do it for me these days.”

“Have I ruined your reputation?”

“Yes, and I plan on making you pay for it later. Now c’mon, let’s go face the music.”

\-------------------------

Cas got a few hugs and a couple of handshakes, as well as an introduction to Ash.

“An angel? Seriously? That’s fucking crazy. So you have wings and all of that?”

Cas’s cheeks were turning red as he silently nodded.

“Sorry man, I’m not trying to embarrass you. It’s actually pretty badass. An angel...shit only Dean Winchester would be able to find an actual angel.”

“Damn straight,” Dean smiled, wrapping his arms around Cas. He looked at Jo, she just winked and nodded. You can’t compete with an angel.

\-------------------------

Dean leaned against the bar and just watched Cas. He was beautiful when he smiled, even more beautiful when he laughed. All it took was a few jokes from Ash and a vigorous request from Jo to sit down, and he had become one of them. He felt Sam sit on the stool next to him and gratefully took the cold beer out of his hand.

“So, that was the big bad?”

“Yep. I know that you probably heard a lot of shit out there that didn’t make sense. I don’t think I could explain it to you if I wanted to, which I don’t.”

“I’ll admit, I’m curious as hell, but I’m not going to ask. You look happy. For the first time in a long time, you actually look happy.”

“I am, Sammy,” Dean turned his head and smiled at his brother. “I guess we both learned that sometimes you find it where you least expected it.”

Sam ducked his head, his cheeks turning pink. “Yeah, well that just kind of happened. I did go to the University to do some research, I invited her to dinner, and I don’t know. It’s like without the distraction of everyone around and the hunting and all of that shit, we’re a lot alike. I seriously thought that Ellen would pick up her shotgun,” he laughed.

“Nah, that’s meant for me. You’re the upstanding Winchester, I’m the bad influence.”

“No, you’re just the guy that’s such a pain in the ass there isn’t a human on earth who could put up with you. Ash was right, only Dean Winchester could find himself an angel.”

The brothers looked at each other and clinked the necks of their beer bottles before taking a long drink. 

“Here’s to happiness, love, and a whole hell of a lot of great sex,” Dean grinned.

“Did you really have to bring up sex?” Sam chuckled.

“Yes I did, and speaking of...I think I’m going to head out. You good here or do you need a ride to the motel?”

“I’ll get something figured out. Call me in the morning, let’s do breakfast, just the two of us.”

“Will do, Sam.” They shared a quick hug before Dean announced that he was going to get going, and this time he was taking an angel with him, not battling it out in the parking lot with one. With hugs, kisses, and a few smart assed remarks from Ash, he and Cas finally made it out of The Roadhouse.

\-------------------------

“So this amazing one and a half star room is ours for as long as we’d like it,” Dean murmured against Cas’s lips.

“That might be awhile,” Cas smiled.

“I was counting on it.” Dean pressed his full lips to Cas’s, something he never thought he’d do again. Their tongues slid together, their hands and mouths only stopping to slowly strip one another. “I know that you’re an optimist,” Dean grinned. “Jacket pocket.” Dean reached for the bottle and pulled Cas into his arms, leading him to the bed.

\-------------------------

Those blue eyes, the strong shoulders and toned chest, the firm stomach, Dean was leaning against the headboard admiring it all. He reached out and pulled Cas closer, the sensitive skin of his inner thighs held tight against Dean's hips. Dean slid his hand up the side of Cas's face and held him in a deep kiss, pressing their bodies together, trapping their hard cocks between their stomachs. Dean's hands roamed Cas's body, squeezing his ass, sliding up his back, gripping his shoulders. He could feel Cas's mouth, kissing and nipping along his jaw and across his neck. His fingers were slick when he slid his hand between them and slipped one inside, moving it in and out slowly until Cas was rocking against it, needing more. The second finger elicited a gasp and a flash of pain in those blue eyes, but Dean knew. When he felt the moan in Cas's chest and watched his mouth open, caught somewhere between a wince and a smile, he knew that he'd found the spot that made Cas desperate and eager. He worked his fingers, stretching and searching until Cas rose up onto this knees and slid slowly down Dean's cock. Dean's breath caught and his hand ran down Cas's back, squeezing his hips and holding him still. He could feel Cas trembling and see the pain in his glossy eyes. He leaned in and pressed their lips together, their tongues sliding slowly, his hand moving between their bodies to wrap around Cas and start stroking. Nobody had ever made Dean feel the things that Cas could. Cas’s hands gripped his shoulders, his mouth trailed across his neck, his body starting to grind. They moved, arching and shifting until Cas gasped and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. Dean's hand slid up Cas's spine and held the back of his neck, pulling him into a heated kiss while they rocked and stroked in the same rhythm, both feeling it build. Cas leaned his body back, letting Dean watch his cock slide in and out, moving faster, wrapping his hand around Dean's to stroke together. Cas was throbbing when his eyes rolled back and his chest started to heave. Dean watched him come, the sticky fluid dripping down both of their hands. Cas’s beautiful blue eyes with lust blown pupils and passionate cry put Dean over the edge. He reached for Cas's shoulder to pull him down one last time and bury his cock deep, coming hard with a loud groan. Cas moved slowly, finally leaning forward and resting his body against Dean's, their chests pressed together, their hearts pounding. Dean reached for tissues and cleaned off their hands before wrapping his arms around Cas and pulling him close, leaning his cheek against the sweaty dark hair. They could have laid like that for hours, he could have fallen asleep like that, but they begrudgingly climbed out of bed and took turns soaping each other up in the shower.

\-------------------------

“This is all so surreal,” Dean said quietly, pulling Cas to him. “Falling in love twice, with the same angel.”

“I don’t know that I’m the same angel, Dean,” Cas whispered.

“Yes, you are. You’re perfect, Cas. You’ve always been perfect. The last thing I told you before Zachariah took you from me was that I’d do it all again, I’d go through it all again just to end up here with you. That hasn’t changed. Everything that happened before that night, everything that has happened since, I would do it all again. I thought that he took something away from me, but he didn’t. He gave me my life, my world. The things that I see in your eyes...you look at me and everything changes. You touch me and it’s like the world doesn’t exist anymore. Ash and Sam were right, it had to be an angel. It had to be you. I love you, and nobody is ever going to take you out of my arms again.”

Dean held Cas close and smiled in the dark when he felt Cas’s hands reach up to wrap around his arms. He pressed his lips against the back of Cas’s neck, “I love you, baby.”

“I love you too, Dean.” Cas felt Dean’s heartbeat against his back and smiled when he heard the soft snore against his shoulder. He was where he belonged, he was in Dean’s arms.


End file.
